


Shut Up and Dance

by EndoratheWitch



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Dancing, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, F/M, Human AU, Mutual Masturbation, cursing, dance competition, shower playing, so you think you can dance type au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-18 08:23:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 59,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7307509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoratheWitch/pseuds/EndoratheWitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marianne and her sister Dawn enter a dance competition.<br/>Bog King a retired ballroom dancer, Sunny Elfman a hip-hop dancer, Roland Knight a hot new dancer and Aura Plum, a retired ballerina are the judges.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Audition

Yawning wide enough that his jaw cracked, followed by a twist of his head to make his neck crack, Bog carried his coffee over to the long table on a raised platform where the other two judges sat speaking while facing the stage. They were in an old theater, but a beautiful one with balconies and rich decorations. The ceiling alone was worth coming into the place for. As Bog took his seat, he glanced over at one of his fellow judges. A short, dark-skinned young man named Sunny, he was a hip-hop dancer and a very good one at that. He enjoyed Sunny's company, which was rare; he usually didn't enjoy anyone's company. 

The other judge was Roland Knight, who thought of himself as an expert in all areas of dance. He had performed in River Dance for several years. Bog hated the stuck up blow-hard with a passion! This morning Roland was looking particularly annoying with his perfect hair and that smarmy smile. Why the women threw themselves at him, Bog would never understand. If they were throwing themselves at someone, Bog always though it should be Sunny. The guy was talented and Sunny was a decent kid; women should be after him instead, but whatever—women were fickle. 

The last of the four judges was Aura Plum, a retired ballerina. She was famous for her talent and her eccentric personality. Bog could only take her in small doses. 

Bog never had women throwing themselves at him, even when he was at the height of his ballroom dancing career. He sighed as he sat remembering his partner...Tammy. He had loved her with all his heart. Bog shook his head shooing the memories away and sipped his coffee, ignoring the old ache in his hip. He glanced at the others. “You two ready? I saw quite a line out there,” he said in a tone that made it sound like a warning. “Let's get through this mess.” 

Roland twisted a finger through his hair. “Were there a lot of young women out there?”

Bog rolled his eyes at Roland and leaned toward the microphone. “Send out the first one.” 

* 

Over the next two hours, dancer after dancer came out onto the stage. A few were good, only one or two were really good, and the rest....well...Bog wasn't sure what he had done in a past life to deserve this, but it must have been pretty damn awful. 

They took a break before the next group. Bog stretched, cracking his back. Sunny did the same, glancing at Bog. “Wanna grab a bite? I heard the spread in the back is pretty good this time.” 

Bog frowned in doubt. “I suppose.” 

“Bog, friend, you need to eat more—you're one damn skinny dude.” Sunny chuckled making Bog shrug. 

Sunny shook his head with a laugh. “Alright man, be right back.” 

Roland had immediately gone over to sooth the pain of rejection for any of the female contestants who had just lost their chance. Bog rolled his eyes and thought, fucking snake. Roland managed to leave broken hearts everywhere they toured for contestants every year. Bog was surprised there were any women left to fall for his honey-words and empty promises. 

Bog stepped down from the judges' area and headed to the back of the theater when he saw a young woman back there stretching. She was petite, with short brown hair, her eyes and lips stained a dark purple. She was wearing a purple leotard, though her legs were bare except for the dance shoes. She was on the floor in a split, her long, lean legs stretched out in front and behind her. She was currently leaning forward, her hand touching her toes. 

Bog stopped short. He had not expected anyone to be back here. The young woman glanced up and Bog felt his breath stop, never had he seen anyone so beautiful. The purple dancer narrowed her eyes. “What?” 

Bog put his hands up. “Nothing, sorry.” 

He quickly turned away when there was a high-pitched squeal that could probably have broken glass. “OMG Marianne!!! That's BOG KING!!!” 

Bog had stopped moving, the squeak having made every muscle in his back and shoulders seize up. Then a voice. “Are you really him?” 

He turned around to see the young woman who had been stretching out on the floor now standing with her hands balled into fists on her hips. 

“I'm Bog King, yes.” 

“The famous ballroom dancer?” She tilted her head, studying him. 

“Aye, once,” he admitted. “Famous—I don't know about that...” Bog looked uncomfortable. He had wanted to find a quiet place, but now he was stuck in a conversation. Blast it all. 

The blonde came dancing up to him, grabbing his hand and shaking it a little wildly. “I'm Dawn, Dawn Summerfield and this is my sister Marianne! I am such a big fan of yours!” 

Bog chuckled. “I'm sorry.” 

“Sorry, what do you mean?” Dawn looked confused. 

“Well there are so many better dancers out you could choose from than to look toward a broken dancer like myself.” Bog gave a bit of a smile and a little self-mocking laugh to accompany the self-deprecating words. 

Dawn looked shocked and upset. “Don't say that!” 

Marianne frowned. “I remember seeing some of your competitions from a few years back. You are amazing.” 

“Was...was...” Bog shrugged. “Sorry to bother you two. I wish you luck.” Bog swiftly turned around and left. 

Dawn frowned turning back to her sister. “Wow...that poor man.” 

Marianne rubbed a hand through her hair. “What exactly happened to him?” 

“I think it was a car accident. I don't know all the details, but it happened the night he and his partner had a big fight at some party.” Dawn went back to stretching. Marianne returned to stretching as well, but she gave a quizzical eye back the way Bog King had gone. 

* 

Bog was a little thrown off by Marianne Summerfield...he had never seen a woman so beautiful. He grimaced a little, his hip aching. He pulled out a pain pill, swallowing it dry. He put a hand against the wall, leaning for a moment waiting for the pain pill to take effect. No...no women....no love...no nothing. 

* 

He took his seat again as the next group of dancers stepped onto the stage. The first two, nothing special, but then Bog looked up at the two sisters came onto the stage. The blonde took the microphone, stating that they had been dancing since they were little with their mother and that their mother's love of dance was what made them decide to start pursuing dance as a career. The little blonde woman stepped back and the music started. The bright and cheerful tunes of “Shut Up and Dance With Me” started to play and the two sisters took position. They started to move and Bog found himself staring. They moved with perfect synchronicity, long lean figures, long kicks and twists. Bog had never seen anything like it. He simply could not take his eyes off Marianne. She turned piercing him with a smile and a wink as she moved, her hips hypnotic as her arms moved over her head, she swayed with the sensual ease of long practice. 

The two women moved around each other, their movements fun and fast then suddenly the music changed to something totally different...Lady Gaga “Bad Romance.” The two women changed so smoothly it was startling just how slick the change was, the dance style, more in-sync rock style that had changed with the music, the women becoming predators on the stage. Those watching in the audience started to clap with the music as the two women tore up the stage. The blonde ran at her sister and Marianne grabbed her as she leapt, the two of them sinuously twining around each other before separating again. 

The music changed one more time to the Fiona Apple song “Criminal.” The two women slowed down to dance with a steady, more free-form jazz style, in smooth synchronicity again. None of the judges moved, watching them until finally, the women walked to the front of the stage and as the song ended, then posed. 

Roland was on his feet clapping with Sunny joining him, along with a twittering Plum. Bog just sat there. He was mesmerized. Never in all his years of dancing had he seen anything like these two sisters, but especially Marianne...she was an animal on that stage, raw talent, passion and wild gorgeousness....His applause finally came, but unlike Sunny and Roland's over the top applause, his was more subdued, and Marianne's attention was on him. She smiled...at him and only him. 

* 

Finally the auditions were over and the contestants that were heading off to New York were chosen. The Summerfield sisters were among them. Bog was gathering his things, getting ready to head to the hotel hopefully to get some sleep before catching the plane in the morning. He was just about to head out the door when someone tapped him on the shoulder. 

He turned and was rather surprised to see Marianne Summerfield standing there. She smiled. “Mr. King, hey,” she began. “Thanks for voting for Dawn and me to go to New York.” 

He nodded. “Don't thank me,” he corrected her. “You two earned it. I was very impressed.” 

She smiled at his words, though she was nervous. She hated being nervous. She had recognized Bog King when he walked backstage today. She usually hid her nervousness with being annoyed or with a quiet bitchy face. But she had worked up the nerve to stay and try to catch him before he left. She was just about to say something else to him...try to ask him to dinner...anything so she could talk to him when a voice yelled from behind them. 

“Hey there, Buttercup! You're one of those Summerfield sisters aren't you? You two were amazing.” Roland Knight came strolling over looking as handsome as ever despite having been here all day while Bog looked rumpled and tried. 

Roland took her hand kissing her knuckles. “Would you do me the honor of having dinner with me?” 

Marianne blanched. Bog snorted and turned to leave. She tried to catch him, but Mr. Knight still had a grip on her hand and he seemed very reluctant to let it go. 

Bog turned away and walked out leaving Marianne with Roland. 

* 

He made his way to the waiting car, popped another pill once he was inside and laid back closing his eyes as he was driven to the hotel. 

Marianne turned toward Roland Knight. “No, thank you.” 

Roland looked shocked. “But...it's me. I mean, you know who I am right?” 

She folded her arms across her chest so he couldn't grab her hand again. “Yes I know who you are,” she said in as neutral a tone as she could muster. “I've even been to a few of your performances.” 

Roland grinned. The light seeming to purposely go out of its way to glint off his perfect teeth. “Ah you're a fan? I could sign something for you. I can even offer some private lessons...on the downlow...” 

“You don't remember me do you?” Marianne hissed. 

Roland looked completely bewildered. “I do.” 

Marianne sighed and turned to walk away. He started to reach for her, but she turned on him just before his hand made contact with her arm. “No thank you for the private help...don't need it. And stay away from my sister or not being able to dance will be the least of your problems when I'm through with you.” 

Roland watched her leave, completely confused. He knew her? 

* 

Dawn came bouncing down the aisle as Marianne approached. “You ready? Need to go home and make arrangements! Can you believe we're going to New York!” 

Dawn barely suppressed a squeal. Marianne laughed softly. Her sister was always a bundle of happy energy and enthusiasm. She could find the silver-lining in a tornado. 

“Yeah, New York...” Marianne smiled. 

Dawn elbowed her. “I saw you staring at Bog King...you knew exactly who he was, didn't you?” 

Marianne couldn't help the blush that blossomed on her cheeks. “Maybe...” 

“Hey, don't lie to your sister! I know!” Dawn giggled and Marianne gave her a playful shove as they exited the theater. 

“I may have seen some videos...” Marianne murmured as they walked to the bus stop. 

Dawn was quiet for a moment while they hurried to the bus that had just arrived and climbed on board, then made themselves comfortable. “So that was Roland Knight. Did you know he was one of the judges?” Dawn asked while she searched her dance bag and came up with a granola bar that she swiftly ripped open and took a huge bite out of. 

“Actually, no I didn't. I mean I knew he was on the rotation of judges, but I had no idea he would be here.” Marianne crossed her arms over her chest glancing out the window watching the lights go by blurring the outside images. 

“You think he remembered you?” Dawn asked around a mouthful of granola. 

“No, he didn't, the pig,” Marianne muttered. 

“Wow, seriously...what a jerk,” Dawn said with feeling. 

Marianne sighed. “It was only a couple of years ago, but you would think a guy would remember someone he asked to marry them. That fucking blow-hard.” 

“Don't you mean fucking, womanizing asshole?” Dawn asked all innocent looking. 

Marianne burst out laughing. “Oh god, Dawn, you really shouldn't curse. It does not suit you at all! It's like having a kindergartener saying bad words!” 

Dawn giggled. 

* 

At his hotel room, Bog stripped and stepped into the shower letting the hot water take his mind off the pain and the beauty from today. He smiled crookedly. Stupid man. He was a stupid man, but his heart did a little skip at the thought of getting to watch that woman dance again. He wondered how long before Roland had her under his thumb though. He got out of the shower, toweled off and slipped on a pair of pajama pants. He stretched his muscled body, which was still in good shape. 

He still danced, though not for anyone except himself. He could move like he used to and the pain would be blinding when he was done, but he kept up the exercise because dancing was more than that for him...it was a way to express his passion, his soul...he could never completely give it up. He pushed the furniture in the room out of the way to make the space bigger. 

He walked over and hit the play button on the CD player built into the wall of the hotel room. Muse came on and Bog smiled. He found the song he wanted, “Feeling Good” and within a moment Bog gave himself over to the music. He started to move, flowing with the music, letting it carry him. All the elegance and passion came flooding back as he gave into the power of the dance. He swayed, the muscles of his body working together as he undulated in place, his arms moving out to the sides, then he did a spin, his legs held perfectly, his hips picking up the beat. 

The passion ran through his whole body, bending and twisting like gravity had no hold on him. Bending over backwards in a perfect arch, his arms moving with the music, then he brought himself up slowly but steadily. 

He slowed down with the music, moving as if he had a partner he was holding close, twirling his invisible partner, then pulling her back against him before he started to sway. Then just as he picked up the beat again, his hip gave out and he dropped to the floor, his knees slamming hard as he gritted out a pained snarl. 

He pushed himself, up dropping onto the bed trying to push the pain aside. He ended up reaching over and grabbing his pills, dry swallowing one and lying there waiting for it to take effect. 

Bog stared at the ceiling of the hotel room waiting for the warmth to spread out from the pill, dulling the constant pain. For a moment he relaxed...the dull numbing of the pain helping him. 

He took a relaxing breath, inhaling and then letting the air out slowly. 

He closed his eyes, but the image of that woman...Marianne came unbidden to his vision. Damn, he thought to himself.


	2. The Competition

The sisters got off the plane both exhausted, but while Marianne looked like she had been hit by a train, Dawn somehow managed to still be bright and cheerful. If she wasn't my sister, Marianne thought, I'd strangle her. They picked up their bags and headed out of the airport where they found a young man waiting for them. He was short with huge glasses and an adorable grin. He was holding a sign that had Marianne and Dawn Summerfield written across it. 

The two sisters walked up and the little guy grinned. “Wow! Mr. King said you were both pretty! And he was right!” 

Marianne blushed and blinked. “What?” 

Dawn tittered. “Ah!!! That was so sweet!” 

Thang suddenly looked embarrassed. “Oh sorry. I wasn't supposed to say that...uh, yeah Mr. King sent me to pick you guys up and drive you to your hotel. I'm Thaddeus, but everyone calls me Thang.” He gave them a wide grin. “I'm Mr. King's assistant!” 

Dawn grinned. “He sent us a driver!! Wow!” 

Thang grinned. “Well, he knew your guys' flight was going to come in later than the others so you guys were going to miss the bus.” He motioned for them to follow placing the sign under his arm and picking up some of their bags. They followed him out to a limo that was waiting for them. Marianne lifted a brow. “A limo?” 

Thang grinned. “That was my idea! Mr. King doesn't know, but I didn't think he would mind.” He loaded up their bags before holding the door open for the sisters. 

* 

Bog was in his New York apartment. He was due at the studio in the next hour where the dancers for the competition were meeting to start the first rounds. He was dressed only in a pair of loose pants, his feet and chest bare. He stretched his arms over his head, his lean muscles clearly highlighted as he leaned over and touched his toes. From there he moved slowly, doing a series of adagio type moves then gradually worked into allegro movements. He managed to keep this up for a couple of minutes before he slowed his movements down again, ignoring the sharp lance of pain that raced up his side. 

He stretched each leg out, careful of his hip. He did a few ballet moves while the song “Fall in The Light” played in the background. He was focused on his movements, slowly bringing his left leg up fully, extending it the length of his body, then he brought it down and did a spin. He stumbled a bit when his hip twitched hard. He caught himself on the wall with an angry snarl. 

Bog took several deep breaths and then gingerly lowered himself to the bed letting go of the wall slowly. Bog closed his eyes until the pain dulled enough for him to get up, swallow a pill and head to the shower. 

* 

He rested his hands against the back of the shower, letting the hot water run down his back. His eyes were closed as he tried to focus and relax. After a few more minutes he finally straightened up, cracking his back, then his neck reaching for the shampoo and started to wash his hair. 

* 

The girls both collapsed on their separate beds. The first round of competition wasn't until tomorrow and it was mid-afternoon right now. They were supposed to go to a group dinner that included all contestants, the judges and some other guests to be held in the dining area of their hotel. Thang had said he would come get them around six or so to escort them down to dinner along with a handful of other contestants, all of whom were staying here in the hotel. 

Marianne lay face down on her bed. She mumbled into the mattress, “I hate flying” 

Dawn giggled getting up and opening her suit case to pull out her clothing and stuff it into the closet. “Well, I'm going to go shower!!” Dawn grabbed some clothing and hopped off leaving Marianne to snort onto the mattress. 

* 

Bog looked at himself in the mirror. He had brushed his hair back, shaved and now wore one of his better black suits, an Armani with a black silk dress shirt and matching tie. He looked like a cross between a mortician and a vampire, he thought to himself as he studied his reflection. He pulled the bottom of one eyelid down staring at his blue eyes. The whites were a little bloodshot, but he didn't look as dead as usual. Now, just to get through this dinner without throwing up or giving into the urge to punch his fellow judge Roland Knight. 

* 

Marianne wasn't sure how long she had been asleep when Dawn shook her awake. “Hey, sleepy head, you need to go shower and get dressed!” Marianne opened one brown eye and glared at her sister. “You got maybe an hour to get ready Marianne.” Dawn looked refreshed and beautiful in a shimmering evening dress of light blue that made her looks as though she had a dress made of stars on her slim figure. Her hair was styled and her makeup was just enough to highlight her eyes and lips. She was stunning. Marianne sat up rubbing at her mouth when she realized she had been drooling. 

“Wow Dawn, you look gorgeous!” 

Dawn tittered. “You think so?” She spun around with her arms out, clearly delighted. 

Marianne frowned in confusion. “When the hell did you get that dress?” 

“Oh I bought it just before we left for New York. I got you one too!” Dawn hurried over to the closet where she pulled out a slinky number that was similar to Dawn's, only this one had a one-shouldered thing going on and was a deep amethyst. 

Marianne blinked. “Whoa...that is...wow.” 

Dawn shoved it at her. “Now go get dressed! Mr. Thang is going to be here anytime to escort us down to the dinner!” 

Marianne stood up and stretched. “Okay okay!” 

She took the dress and headed off to the shower. 

When she came out she wasn't given a chance to mess with her hair and makeup. Dawn practically hauled her into a chair and began to put her together. Marianne gave up protesting and let Dawn have her way. 

When she was finally released to look in the mirror Marianne let out a low whistle. “Wow...I look hot!” 

Dawn giggled. “I do good work.” 

That was when there was a knock at the door. Marianne looked at her sister. “Please say you bought shoes too?” 

Dawn twisted her lips at her sister. “Now what do you take me for? Of course!” 

* 

When the girls opened the door, Thang was standing there looking quite nice in a dark green shirt and blue tie. He grinned. “Wow, you ladies look very nice!” 

They giggled together. “Thanks, Thang.” 

“You both ready? We are going to stop at Stuff's...sorry...I mean Stephanie's room to pick her up. She is one of the producers of the show, but she is really nice.” 

Dawn glanced at Marianne, both of them sharing a look. It was clear to them both that the little guy liked whoever this Stuff person was...so cute! 

Marianne laid a hand on Dawn's shoulder when she saw that particular look in her sister's eyes...her “match-maker” look. Marianne widened her eyes at her sister, but Dawn stuck her tongue out as they followed Thang to the elevator. 

They picked up Stephanie Roundhouse, or Stuff as she told everyone to call her. She was a very tall, big woman, Marianne realized, like body builder big. Her hair was cut extremely short and she had a row of earrings running up the sides of both ears. She looked like someone who would talk with her fists. Thang only came up to her stomach, but judging by the moon-eyes he kept giving Stuff, little Thang was clearly in love. The sisters grinned, finding it sweet to see how this guy loved this person. Stuff grinned. “Hey guys. You two look fabulous! Thang here told me how you two killed it at the auditions! I look forward to seeing the two of you dance.” Stuff turned her dark green eyes on Thang and the little guy nearly melted right there. “So, you ready Thang? By the way I like the outfit; you look nice.” Her voice was surprisingly deep and a bit gruff. 

Thang's voice and eyes were dreamy as he murmured. “So do you Stuff...” She giggled which sounded odd. “Thanks Thang.” 

* 

Bog drove up in front of the hotel tossing the keys to his 2017 Ford GT Hyper at the kid waiting to park his car for him. The car was an indulgence, maybe a bit too fancy for his usual taste, but he did like it; drove smoothly, the color a shade of blue that matched his eyes. He had let his mother pick the car's color after she talked him into the purchase. His wise investments of his money over the course of his career left him well cared for and his mother happy in a little house in New Jersey. A few little comforts, but god he missed dancing. 

He walked into the hotel, heading to the dining room where all the contestants, judges, the show's producer and any number of other people that worked for the studio would be for the big welcoming dinner. They had a band set up so the contestants could dance and pretty much have a good time before the work started tomorrow night. 

As Bog made his way to the dinner, the elevator popped open. He saw Thang and Stuff come out of the elevator, but then he was stopped in his tracks as the sisters stepped out...Marianne Summerfield was a vision. He knew his mouth was hanging open, but he was only dimly aware of that fact as he watched her step out. 

Thang saw him and waved. “Mr. King, hello!! Wanna walk with us sir?” 

Dawn Summerfield squealed. “Hi!!” 

Marianne Summerfield didn't say a word, but she did smile at him. He flushed, but walked over. 

Marianne felt her heart slamming against her chest when he turned to stride over to them. The damn man looked like Prince Charming as far as she was concerned in that black on black Armani suit, his hair back from his sharp, gruff face. The way her blood ran so hot she couldn't believe she had ever been attracted to some soft, dick face like Roland Knight. That summer when she thought she was in love...if she could slam herself she would. 

All thoughts of Roland Knight were brushed away when Bog stepped up to her. “Good evening Ms. Summerfield. You look...” He visibly swallowed. “Lovely.” 

Marianne was not skilled in deciphering the nuances of someones speech and facial ticks like Dawn, so she wasn't sure if he was nervous or something else. 

“Uh...thanks.” She couldn't stop the blush on her cheeks. 

Bog wasn't sure what to do now. He thought about offering his arm to escort her in, but she might find that repulsive and it might be seen as favoritism by the other contestants....but Thang saved him from a wrong decision by piping up. “Come on guys! We are going to be late for dinner!” 

Their group moved swiftly to get to the dining room. 

Bog saw the judges table almost immediately. He curled his lip at the sight of Roland, though it was Sunny who came jogging over. His cheeks were bright and his brown eyes kept straying over to Dawn Summerfield. “Hey Bog, glad to see you made it on time.” 

Bog snorted, but Sunny had turned to Dawn. “Hey...” He smiled and then looked down at his shoes. 

Dawn grinned at him. “Hi.” 

Bog took a breath turning to Marianne. “It was nice to see you again, Miss Summerfield. I'm sure Thang will show you to your table.” 

Marianne smiled and Bog's heart slammed against his chest hard enough that he brought a hand up to his breastbone unconsciously. 

Thang interrupted again. “Okay, just follow me and Stuff...I mean Stephanie!” 

Stuff motioned with her hand at him. “Oh just call me Stuff, Thang—really, we're friends after all.” 

Thang grinned and both Marianne and Dawn had to cover their mouths to prevent themselves from laughing. He was such an adorable little dork. 

* 

Bog took his seat. Luckily Aura was between Roland and Bog. The Scot really could not stand Roland one little bit. The man went through women like they were candy, and the worst part was these women kept falling for him, over and over again. He noticed that Roland was staring off at Marianne's table, his eyes on the eldest Summerfield sister. 

Bog narrowed his eyes, his lips rolling into sneer. Dinner was served—steak, chicken or fish. Bog shook his head; the same for every show. It was like a god damn wedding, though the steak was good this time, which was a godsend. Bog sipped his wine just before cutting into his steak. The wine wasn't overly sweet, which he was thankful for. Usually the producers ordered wine so cheap it could have been alcoholic Kool-aid as far as he was concerned. 

While he ate he thought to himself about driving over to see his mother this weekend. He liked to check on her every week if possible, but when the show was filming he sometimes couldn't get away for weeks at a time. He would call every other night, however, to check on her. She understood that her son had a busy schedule, but he still tried to drive in to see her. She was getting old and he worried about her, especially after his had father died a couple of years ago. And then his thoughts strayed...plum colored lips and brown caramel eyes drifted through his thoughts. He was brought out of musing by the lights as they were turned down and a spotlight focused on the stage.

The shows “MC” Imp (his real name was Ian Jaken but everyone called him Imp) tapped the microphone. “Hey everyone! I want to congratulate all of you for making it to the first round of DANCE TILL YOU DROP.” 

Bog groaned to himself. He really hated the name of this show. It was so stupid, but whatever...at least the actual dancing was top-notch. 

“Tonight though, you are not to think about the coming weeks of hard work and heartbreak ahead of you! Tonight is for celebrating that you got here in the first place!” 

Everyone cheered. Bog rolled his eyes, clapping slowly. 

Imp turned and the curtain opened behind him showing a live band. “Can we have a round of applause for the show's band!” 

Everyone clapped. Imp grinned, his white hair shining brightly in the lights. “Now, let's have some fun!” 

The music started, the band launching into some song Bog vaguely recognized. Everyone started to move out onto the dance floor and dance. He sipped his wine, observing. Roland immediately had two young women on either side of him dancing...if that was what they called it. To Bog, it looked more like a mating ritual to him, but whatever. He had just taken a sip of his wine when he felt the presence of someone next to him. 

He looked up and saw Dawn standing there. She grinned. “Wanna dance?” 

Bog looked around. Sunny was on the dance floor already, he saw Marianne out there too. He watched her for a couple of seconds...God that woman could move...Then he looked back up at Dawn. 

“You don't want to dance with an old guy like me,” he muttered with a self-deprecating smile. 

Dawn pouted. “Yes I do!! Please!!!” 

Bog looked into those sparkly blue eyes and knew he would feel like a heel if he said no. He sighed and stood, plopping his glass of wine down and taking her hand thanking god he had taken a pill before driving over. 

* 

The music had changed to something by Madonna, ”Forbidden Love.” Dawn squealed. “Come on!” She grabbed his hand and Bog let himself be dragged to the dance floor She moved with the beat and the energy of youth, but Bog easily matched her. Marianne was dancing with one of the other contestants, a young man with a purple Mohawk. She was trying not to watch him, but Bog King was hard not to watch; the man was graceful and stood a head taller than anyone else here. 

Bog took Dawn's hand and spun her around, pulling her close and then let her out. They moved their hips in a modified Tango mixed with some samba. The way they moved was incredible to the point that the other dancers started to move out of the way Marianne's sister and Bog danced. 

Marianne was mesmerized by Bog. The way that man could move his hips, his legs, the look on his face...like the man had transcended. She couldn't figure out why on earth he had retired since it was clear to her that this was who he was—a dancer. She knew about the accident, but right now he looked to be in top form. 

Her sister giggled while she danced around Bog as he moved his hips grabbing Dawn's hand and twirling her to him, then the two of them moved together, inventing a few steps in complete synchronicity with each other, reading each others steps without speaking. The crowd was clapping but Bog didn't hear them, he let the music and the movements take him away, it was all about the dance. 

Roland pressed his lips together, wrinkling his nose in distaste. He knew Bog King was a better dancer than him, but he would never admit that. Watching him out dancing him made Roland sick. 

The two women with him had looks on their faces of admiration that had Roland's blood boiling. So when suddenly Bog made a pained face and stopped, Roland wanted to cheer. 

The pain hit like a truck...it lanced up from his hip and blinded him. He stopped dancing, nearly collapsing, but Dawn caught him and turned it into a dance move by twirling herself around him so he didn't have to move and then wrapped her arm around his waist, with a bow to the audience. The way she slid her leg back and held onto Bog made it seem that Bog was the one holding her up. 

Then they turned to leave the dance floor, only Marianne, Roland and Sunny noticed that Bog was limping badly. Dawn was doing her best to cover it up for him. 

She got him to his table and sat him down, taking the chair next to his and moving it to sit in front of him. “What can I do?” Her blue eyes were anxious. 

Bog brushed her off. “Sorry, Miss Summerfield. I got carried away. It's fine. I just need to get home.” 

Marianne stepped up beside her sister. “Mr. King—you alright?” 

He nodded. “Aye, I'm fine.” 

Dawn looked up at Marianne, her sweet face etched with concern. Bog looked between the two of them and his voice became a growl. “I'm fine, really.” 

Marianne leaned over and whispered in her sister's ear. “Why don't you go find Mr. Elfman. He seems to be a friend of Mr. King's.” 

Dawn nodded and hurried off. Marianne frowned, looking at him. He was pale and angry looking. She sighed. “I'll be right back, okay.” 

Bog waved her off. As soon as she was gone he pulled his pills out of his suit jacket pocket, poured one out and tossed it in his mouth, chasing it with the rest of his glass of wine. 

* 

Marianne found Thang deep in conversation with Stuff. They two seemed to be enjoying each others company and she hated to disturb them, but she needed to talk to Thang about Mr. King. She tapped his shoulder lightly, making the little man jump. “Oh, sorry Miss Summerfield, how can I help you?” 

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” Marianne indicated a corner. Thang frowned, but he excused himself from Stuff's presence and followed Marianne. “Thang, Mr. King looks like he is in a lot of pain. 

Can we call him a cab or something?” 

Thang frowned. “Well, Mr. King probably drove himself. He's got a really nice car.” 

Marianne frowned. “Can you drive him home?” 

Thang winced. “Ah...actually I don't know how to drive. Another reason I hired a limo...” 

Marianne sighed, oh yeah, he had mentioned that. She glanced over at Mr. King. He was resting with his elbows on the table, his head between his hands. She huffed. “Okay fine. I'm going to drive him home.” 

Thang started to say something, but Marianne simply walked away without hearing him. 

When she came back to the table she put her hand out toward Mr. King. “Give me your keys.” 

Bog looked up startled. “What?” 

He still looked too pale as far as she was concerned. “Give me your keys. I'm driving you home.” 

Bog snorted. “No, you're not. Besides, that would look bad for us both.” 

“You're in pain. I'm driving you home. Besides, nobody here is going to notice. Look at them all! They are drunk and partying. Come on.” Marianne had the fist of one hand on her hips, the other hand held palm out waiting for his keys. 

Bog rubbed a hand down his face. “I don't have them, the kid out front parked it.” 

“Alright, then come on.” Marianne reached for him. It was a testament to how much pain he was in that he let her help him up. She put his arm over her shoulders, and then her arm around his slim waist. They left as quickly as they could without drawing any attention. Marianne had been correct, everyone was too busy partying. The only person to notice was Roland. His eyes narrowed dangerously, but he said nothing...he only thought to himself that that was interesting before he went back to dancing. 

* 

They got up front and Bog asked the desk to have his car brought around. Marianne walked him outside and nearly dropped him when his vehicle was driven up front. “That's your car?” 

Bog was standing a little straighter by the time the car was driven up. “Yeah.” He frowned and looked embarrassed. Marianne was shocked. Most guys would be thrusting out their hips to show how their dick size matched the car! But Mr. King seemed shy about it. She grinned. She was liking him more and more. “Okay, you have to let me drive you home.” She grinned and Bog actually chuckled. “Sure.” Then the kid got out, all smiles and handed the keys to Bog. Bog took them as he dropped a twenty into the kid's hand and placed the keys in Marianne's hand. “Drive me home please.” 

Marianne giggled. “Alright,” she said with enthusiasm.


	3. Crushing

Bog couldn't help the smile that blossomed on his face watching Marianne get behind the wheel of his car. She was grinning so much he was betting her face was going to hurt in the morning. He relaxed into the passenger seat as Marianne set her hands on the wheel. She marveled at the interior of the car. “How can you afford this?” 

No sooner than the words were out of her mouth than she slapped her hands over her lips with a muttered, “Wow, that was rude.” 

Bog chuckled. “It's fine. Investing my money wisely when I first started competing and continuing until I stopped. Plus, not being married, no children...not much of a life...so a few little things like this...” He shrugged casually snapping the seat-belt into place. 

Marianne glanced sideways at him, the way he said not being married...no children...it was clear the man actually wanted those things...how wonderfully odd she thought as she started the engine. The car purred to life, barely making a sound. The music that started to play was not at all what she expected. Though if someone had asked her what kind of music a guy like Bog King listened to, she wasn't sure she would have been able to answer, but right now it was Lindsey Stirling. 

She glanced at Bog and he looked confused. “I like violin music. What?” 

She grinned. “Nothing. So which way should I go?” 

Bog pointed. “Straight down this street then take a left.” 

* 

They ended up driving around for over an hour before he finally pointed out his apartment building. Marianne wasn't from New York and she couldn't exactly be sure, but she got the impression they could have driven to his apartment building a lot sooner because she was certain that they passed a few buildings more than once. But driving this car was a dream! And this late at night, the traffic wasn't as bad as usual. She pulled into the underground garage and Bog directed her where to park the car. 

When he got out, the pain was mostly gone; there was a slight limp in his step from overdoing it, but nothing he couldn't deal with until he got to his apartment. 

“I'll call you a cab when we get up to my apartment; that way you don't need to wait on the street. Besides, it's not exactly safe no matter how expensive the neighborhood.” He gave her a slight shrug as he limped toward the elevators. 

“Thank you.” She grinned and stepped onto the elevator with him. 

Bog leaned against the back of the elevator while Marianne stared at anything that wasn't him. He looked pale right now, but he was so handsome! She had had a crush on the man for as long as she could remember! And here she was sharing an elevator with him after driving his car and she had watched him dance with her sister. Ugh! Her inner teenager was flipping out, but on the outside she was just barely managing to maintain her calm. 

When the chime rang and the doors opened, Bog stepped out, but he offered her his arm. She blushed taking it and they walked into the plush hall. 

The building clearly held wealthy tenants as the halls were carpeted in a rich plush carpet, the walls painted in warm colors of orange, and deep reds. The walls of the hall were even decorated! With actual paintings. Marianne couldn't help the whistle that came out long and low. 

Bog chuckled. “It's a bit over the top, but I love the view.” 

His apartment was located at the end of the hall and he opened the door standing aside to let her in first. 

When Marianne stepped in, she knew her mouth had to be hanging to the floor. Never in all her life had she see an apartment like this! It was huge, but unlike a rich apartment in a fancy magazine, this one was warm and inviting, not cold and sterile as so many of those apartments in the magazines seemed to be. There was a wall that was an entire window that had a view over the top of the city. The furniture was all warm colors, each piece looking as if you could simply sink into it. 

Bog limped in behind her taking off his jacket and tossing it across a chair. “Can I get you a drink? Water, tea, coffee?” He lifted a brow in question as Marianne tore her gaze away from him...he looked nice in just a dress shirt, rolling up his sleeves as he strolled into the kitchen. She walked to one of the windows to look out over the city. 

She didn't look at him as she answered, “Tea please.” 

“Hot or cold?” Bog leaned on the kitchen counter watching her. She was lovely to look at...Bog sighed, hopefully Roland would not ruin her...He shook himself standing up as Marianne murmured again, “Ice please.” 

He pulled down a couple of tall elegant looking glasses, then reached into the fridge to pull out a glass pitcher of iced tea. He filled the glasses then pulled out a lemon and swiftly sliced the fruit sticking a slice on each glass. 

He walked over to her, still limping though it was slightly better as he handed her the glass. 

“If you want sugar, there is some on the kitchen cabinet.” 

She took the glass with a smile. “Thank you.” 

Bog nodded. “I'll call your cab.” 

She turned to watch him. He walked over to the couch and sat down, pulling out his cellphone as he did so, his fingers running over it swiftly. 

He leaned forward placing his elbows on his knees while he made the call, one hand running though his hair. Doing that mussed up his dark hair, he looked so handsome, rugged and for a moment the situation sunk in—she was in Bog King's apartment...she drove his car and she was drinking iced tea in his apartment! 

She had nearly worshipped him and he was doing nothing that dimmed that feeling. No one danced like him. Even now when he danced with her sister he was incredible. It hurt her to know he was in pain. But damn, he was beautiful to watch. 

She quickly turned away when he finished his call. “Cab should be here in a few minutes. They'll ring up here when it arrives. Can I get you anything else?” 

She felt her lips broaden into a smile. She loved that slight accent he had; it was nice, better than when she had heard it on TV. Like a caress against her ears. “No thanks, I'm fine.” 

Now an awkward quiet settled down between them. Marianne had so many questions, but they were too intimate to ask him. Bog wanted to get to know her, but he was a judge, he couldn't become...damn it. Frustrated, he opened a row of buttons at the top of his shirt after pulling the tie loose. Marianne looked over her shoulder and her eyes bugged for a moment to see that hint of chest, the hollow of his throat...oh yeah...he was WAY sexier in person than all the vidoes and pictures she had seen of him. This is so embarrassing, she thought to herself She felt absolutely star-struck! She turned back to look at the window, but instead of enjoying the view of the city, she chose to watch his reflection in the glass. 

He had just started to open his mouth and say something when the buzzer at the door went off. He smiled in apology and stepped over hitting the speaker button. “Yes?” 

“Taxi is here sir.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Shall I walk you down?” Bog asked her and Marianne nodded. “That would be nice.” 

He walked over, opening the door and holding it open for her. She slipped past him with a smile and he locked the door then escorted her all the way back to the lobby. 

The cab was waiting just outside. “Good night, Marianne.” He smiled holding the door open for her again. She walked past him, but her eyes stayed glued to his, “Thank you, Mr. King.” 

He hunched his shoulders a little. “Just call me Bog, please.” 

* 

That night when Bog went to bed, he laid on his back staring at the ceiling of his apartment. She was beautiful, really beautiful. Not that was the only quality to make her so appealing. There was so much more about her! She was intelligent, talented and the fact that she had driven him home without a second thought about how that might affect her chances on the show if someone decided to be a pest about it...she was kind and just...he sighed. Bog found himself attracted to all those qualities. He was such a fool. 

Well, it didn't matter. 

Nothing would happen. 

Even if she wasn't a contestant. 

He was ugly, broken and alone. 

And that was how he would stay. 

* 

When Marianne got back, Dawn was waiting for her, lying on her stomach on her bed in their hotel room watching “Bewitched” on TV. She was wearing a pair of pink pajamas with kittens on them while she kicked her legs back and forth. Marianne grinned at her. “Hey!” 

Dawn grinned. “Hey, so did you get him home alright?” 

Marianne nodded. “Poor man. I think he was in a lot more pain than he was letting on, even with the pills.” 

Dawn rolled over onto her back. “Yeah, but man could Bog dance! Did you see him?” 

Marianne blushed as she flopped down on her own bed and started to pull off her shoes. “He was gorgeous! Just amazing!” 

“Yeah, he was.” Dawn looked a little dreamy. 

“Don't you be getting a crush on my crush, Dawn Summerfield!” Marianne narrowed her eyes and Dawn laughed. 

“I'm not! I promise! Geez, selfish much? Can't we share a dream crush?” Dawn launched herself up to her feet giving her sister a sour look and stuck out her tongue 

“Hey, you fall in love with every guy you meet. That isn't my fault! Besides, he is way too old for you.” Marianne laughed shimmying out of her dress and heading to the shower. 

She left the door open as she turned on the water so she and Dawn could continue to talk. Dawn giggled a little, fairly sure Marianne's crush could easily become something more unless Bog King turned into a jerk...which she seriously doubted was possible. The man seemed sweet and nice. 

“So what's his place like?” Dawn pulled a chair over next to the bathroom door and sat down with her legs pulled up, wrapping her arms around her knees. 

“It was gorgeous! I mean the view of the city was just amazing, but it was nice and cozy. Like I could curl up in a blanket on the couch cozy.” Marianne's voice clearly illustrated her appreciation for his apartment. 

“So what's he like without anyone around?” Dawn stretched her legs out balancing on the chair a little before she dropped them to the floor. 

Marianne finished showering quickly and came out in a pair of pajamas similar to her sister's, but purple with little lizards all over them with bows on their heads. She was running her fingers through her damp hair. “He was...nice. I mean...he offered me a drink and called me a cab...walked me down when the cab came.” Marianne smiled, but 

Dawn saw the look in her sister's eyes. Oh yeah...she liked him even more now. “What did you guys talk about?” Dawn hopped up and followed her sister back to the beds flopping down. 

“He seems quiet. I think he might be lonely.” Marianne frowned softly. 

Dawn pressed her lips together. “That's sad.” 

“Yeah, it is.” Marianne sighed. 

* 

The following day contestants were to meet early. They started out at 120 dancers and now they had been shaved down to 38 by that afternoon. It was early evening and everyone was on break waiting for the next call. It had been an exhausting morning of dancing over and over. 

While everyone stretched or did other warm up exercises, Marianne glanced around studying the competition. She knew how this worked. They would go out there in teams of two and three, dancing for all they were worth and the competition would be eliminated down to twenty. They had already worked through the day and it looked as if they were all going to work through the night too. 

Dawn was sitting on the floor, slowly stretching her body. Marianne had been using the bar, but came over to check on her sister. “How are you holding up?” Marianne squatted down next to the sunny blonde. 

Dawn grinned. “Tired, but this is so exciting!” 

Marianne looked around the room. “There are some really good dancers here. Ya think we have a chance?” 

Dawn nodded. “I do because we're good.” 

She grinned and Marianne laughed. “I love your confidence.” 

That was when the door opened and Roland Knight came sauntering in with that flashy smile that Marianne hated. The urge to punch him in the face was so strong she had to fight with herself not to walk over there and do it! 

“Alright you guys, we are going to divide you into groups of three, though two of you will be a group of two. I wish all you guys luck! And for those of you who are about to become our top 20, congrats!” Roland grinned at everyone, but he winked at Marianne. Her hands balled into fists and if Dawn hadn't put her hand on her sister's arm 

Marianne would have gone right over there and slugged that stupid slimy smile right off his stupid face! She couldn't believe he didn't even remember her! It was bad enough that he broke her heart, but to not even remember doing it? The...the...fuck! 

* 

Bog was sitting in his seat looking through the files on the contestants when he found Marianne's file. He took a deep breath. She was lovely and looking through her dance accomplishments, he thought how she really didn't need to be here. She, and her sister too, should have been scooped up by a dance company by now. The two young women were accomplished and talented. Perhaps after this competition they would finally get the exposure they both needed. 

He lingered over Marianne's picture, staring into her brown eyes. He traced his long fingers over the image. If he was younger...he snorted. Even younger Bog wasn't worth any woman's time...ugly...maybe a talented dancer at one time, but...he closed the folder as Roland came back. 

“Okay, Brutus, Lizzie, Pare and Lisa are dividing them up and giving them their music that they are going to have to choreograph their dances to. This should be fun!” He rubbed his hands together just as Sunny came up. “Hey guys!” 

Bog, ignoring Roland, glanced over at Sunny. “Where's Plum?” 

“She's coming. I think she stopped to get a drink or something.” Sunny grinned flopping down next to Bog. 

“So how long do we have before the first group?” Bog stretched cracking his back. 

Roland sneered. “What's the matter old man, sitting in a seat too much?” 

Bog frowned narrowing his eyes, but Sunny laid a hand on his shoulder turning toward Roland. “Roland, why don't you go dance off a pier and stop being such a prick.” 

Roland started to say something in return to Sunny, but Plum came in carrying a tray. “I brought everyone some coffee!” 

Bog ignored Roland standing up. “Thank you Plum, you are a dear.” He walked over and took the tray from her. 

She tittered. “Why thank you Bog. You are always such a gentleman—unlike some people.” Her eyes unsurprisingly settled on Roland. 

“Well, fuck you too. You know what, I'll be in a my dressing room. You can send someone for me when the judging starts.” With that Roland flounced away. 

Bog muttered. “Good riddance.” 

Both Sunny and Plum laughed. 

“God, why did the producers saddle us with him?” Plum sat down blowing on her coffee adding a couple of the sugar and cream packets she had brought with her. 

Bog snorted, sipping his coffee. He enjoyed it black and bitter...sorta like his heart, he mentally joked with himself. “They wanted a pretty face besides you and Sunny here.” 

Sunny snorted. “You mean they needed a young white guy.” 

Bog chuckled. “Aye. Gotta hit as many demographics as they can with the judges. And let's face it, besides you, Sunny, Roland is popular with the younger audience.” 

Sunny gagged. “Oh hell, being in the same grouping as Roland? What did I ever do to you Bog!” 

Bog laughed. “Sorry, my friend.” 

Plum laughed. “Well at least the pay makes it worth putting up with him.” 

Sunny added another sugar to his coffee, not looking at either judge as he murmured. “Plus that Dawn Summerfield is fun to watch dance...she is...gorgeous.” 

Bog's eyebrow rose as he looked over the top of his coffee at Sunny. 

“Do you have a little bit of a crush there?” Bog smiled and Plum sighed. “Aww!! That is so cute!” 

Sunny sipped his coffee. “Hey, I can appreciate a beautiful woman just like the next guy.” 

“Except you aren't that type of guy Sunny and we both know it.” Plum glanced at Bog who nodded in agreement. 

“She's pretty and talented. I like her energy. Please don't say anything! I don't want her to be disqualified on account of me! I swear I can judge her dancing without letting personal feelings get in the way!” Sunny looked anxiously between the other two. 

“My lips are sealed,” Bog murmured sipping his coffee and putting his feet up in Roland's chair. 

“I have no idea what you two are even talking about.” Plum giggled holding her cup to her mouth with both hands. 

* 

Marianne and Dawn were not grouped together, which was just fine by them. They didn't really want to compete against each other unless it was necessary, which it would be soon enough. 

Marianne was grouped with two guys, neither of whom were all that bad as dancers, especially to make it this far. They were nice enough; one was a trained ballet dancer, the other into hip hop. The music choice they were given was a track from a Bollywood film! Marianne had never danced Bollywood style and neither had her partners, but with some quick research, the three of them had what they felt was a killer piece of choreography pulled from a couple of different Bollywood films. 

* 

Bog was making notes. They had seen four groups already when he saw Marianne's name for the next routine. His heart sped up, his hands becoming clammy. What the hell was wrong with him. Are you fifteen again Bog? he thought to himself. That was when the music started to play and he gazed at the stage as Marianne and two men walked out. Within seconds they started to dance. Bog could not take his eyes off of her. She attacked the dance with passion and skill, but it was the passion that really showed through as she held her hands with exquisite grace, her hips moving in a particularly tantalizing way. She spun around, out dancing her two companions to the point it was just Marianne on that stage. 

Bog glanced over at the other judges to see Sunny clapping his hands and grinning. Plum was moving with the music and Roland was looking at Marianne as if he wanted to eat her up. Bog felt a tiny flame of intense anger in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't sure how, but he was not going to let Roland go through Marianne or her sister like he did so many other women. 

He would do whatever he could to protect them from a predator like that fucking bawbag clarty bastard, Roland Knight.


	4. Another Vow

They all waited nervously. The announcement on the final thirty-eight was to happen any moment now...the ones who would really be competing. Dawn and Marianne were sitting on the floor against the wall holding hands. 

“If we don't get in together, I'm not competing,” Marianne muttered under her breath. 

Dawn squeezed her fingers. “Don't you dare! If you get in and I don't, you better damn well compete or I'm never forgiving you.” 

Marianne laughed. “Okay, well the same goes for me if you get in and I don't.” 

“Good.” Dawn smiled and leaned her head against her sister's shoulder. 

That was the moment the doors opened and all four judges walked in. 

It was Roland who held up the envelope with the names. He gave everyone in the crowd that artificial smile of his that made Marianne want to deck him. 

Roland cleared his throat and started to run down the list of names. 

Dawn was holding onto Marianne's hands so tightly that Marianne was beginning to think that she would lose all feeling in her fingers when Roland looked over at them smiling. “Marianne and Dawn Summerfield.” 

Dawn squeal of excitement was so high that Marianne was surprised that any glass in the immediate vicinity didn't shatter. But Marianne didn't care. They made it!! She wrapped her arms around Dawn hugging her tight. 

“We both made it!!!” 

* 

The next morning though, it was right back to work. Each person was being teamed up with another member of the cast. Dawn and Marianne had found out that they were to be teamed up which was both wonderful and horrible. Marianne frowned. “I wonder whose bright idea it was to put us together.” 

Dawn was stretching, “Probably the producers...” Dawn dropped her voice, taking on a dramatic air. “Two sisters, competing against each other. Who will win? Will their relationship ever be the same? Tune in!” 

Marianne burst out with a snorting laugh. “That was good. Didn't know you could get your voice that low!” 

Dawn waggled her eyebrows at her sister. “There are many aspects about me you know nothing about!!” 

They both started laughing and completely gave up on stretching. 

* 

Bog made his way down to the practice rooms. The area consisted of a long hallway with studio size rooms on either side. Each of the judges, along with a few other professional dancers, were going to be directing the contestants in their dance numbers. Bog sighed. This was the part he always hated. Not only did he not like trying to teach, but the fact that he couldn't dance for long always made him grumpy. He sighed, stepping off the elevator and glancing down at the file. He hadn't bothered to see who he had yet until he reached the floor. Now that he was standing in the hall he opened the folder and his eyes almost bugged right out of his head. Marianne and Dawn Summerfield?? 

Bog stopped in the middle of the hallway staring down at the file. The girls were going to be doing a contemporary ballet dance. Plum would usually have taken this one, but she had another couple that were doing a full on ballet performance. 

Lucky for Bog he had ballet training along with his ballroom dancing so here he was, the instructor for the Summerfield sisters. What were the odds? He shook his head. 

He took a deep breath—he could do this. He had dry swallowed four pain killers before coming down here. He could do this without embarrassing himself. He didn't know how long he could continue with the show; the pain was becoming more and more unbearable...it was going to force him to retire from even this, and soon he wouldn't have anything left...he didn't like to think of that, of what would happen to him when he couldn't even teach dance...except by word...he shook the thought away. 

He pushed the door open to the studio the sisters were supposed to be waiting for him in. He was assaulted by the music as soon as he pushed the door open. The two sisters were dancing free-style and it was the most beautiful performance of its kind he had ever seen. 

They were smiling, laughing as they matched each others moves, the music fully taking them over, but the sisters were so in sync with each other that they didn't even need to speak words to know what the other was going to do and match it. 

Bog could only stand there and watch them. 

After a few more minutes of them dancing and laughing it was Dawn, the youngest, who saw Bog standing there watching. She stopped dancing and her sister frowned, but 

Dawn pointed and Marianne turned to see Bog standing there waiting patiently, a folder and his dance shoes in his hands. 

Her whole face turned red and she rushed over to the stereo to turn the music off. 

“Sorry about that.” She smiled. 

Bog felt his heart constrict gazing at her. She was so beautiful, so full of life and energy. If he had been ten years younger...no...who was he kidding. Even as a younger man, he wasn't anything to look at, too tall, too sharp, just plain ugly. The only time Bog ever felt good about himself, about anything was when he was dancing. And soon, he thought again to himself, he would lose that too. 

Bog shook the thoughts away again. He was having difficulty today, his thoughts constantly straying to all the ills of his life and his future. 

He needed to focus on right here, right now. 

He smiled. “That was very good. Now let's see if we can focus that energy and talent into a routine, shall we?” 

Both girls nodded as Bog kicked his shoes off and started to undo the button on his slacks. For a moment Marianne's brain raced somewhere very naughty, her mouth falling open as she stared at him. But as Bog pulled the pants off she saw that he had a pair knee-length, tight work out pants on underneath. He unbuttoned his dress shirt folding it along with the slacks. Marianne just kept staring while he slipped on his dance shoes, a pair of plain black leather shoes with maybe a one inch heel. They were clearly beat up, scuffed and dull. 

Bog stood up and smiled. “Alright, while I get some stretching in, why don't you two put in the music you would like to dance to.” 

Marianne frowned. “I thought you were supposed to choose our music?” 

Bog laughed softly. “I find if I let the dancers pick the music that speaks to them, they do a lot better in the competition. It's better if it's music that you are familiar with, but also speaks to you. I'll let you know if your choice is absolutely atrocious, however,” he said with a smirk. 

The two sisters looked at each other as Bog's lips curled into a grin. He had yet to meet a dancer in this competition who didn't have a list of music they wanted to dance to... 

Dawn raced over and pulled her bag around and started to rifle through it until she found what she was looking for, four mixed CD's of music. 

Marianne glanced at Dawn, but otherwise her full attention was on Bog. He had walked over to the bars and was performing a set of stretches, flowing right into some ballet moves. He wasn't looking in the wall-length mirror. He had his eyes closed while he stretched. Marianne noted that he was so tall and lean, which just seemed to enhance his gracefulness. She could only detect a very slight limp...most people probably wouldn't have noticed it, but she did only because she knew about it. 

Marianne nearly jumped a foot when Dawn tugged on her arm hissing in her ear. “You're going to start drooling on the floor if you don't stop staring.” 

Marianne blushed and turned away from staring at Bog. Dawn glanced over at him with a grin on her face. “He is still pretty hot. He's one of my 'older man' crushes—and yours too, unless I'm totally off.” 

“Dawn shush!” Marianne gave her a playful whack on the shoulder. 

Her sister giggled. “Anyway, these are our practice music.” 

Marianne took the CD's from her sister. “I didn't realize you had brought them with you.” 

Dawn grinned. “Hey, never go anywhere without the tunes. So I thought we might use this one.” 

Dawn pointed at one of the CD's. 

“We could do that Chris Cornell song...you know from that one James Bond movie! We could do a spy routine! James Bond girls!” Dawn took a pose like she had a gun. 

Marianne laughed, but nodded. “That might work.” 

* 

Bog finished his stretches letting his mind wander and relax. When he finished, he saw the sisters were talking over a small stack of CDs. He grinned strolling over. “So what did you ladies have in mind?” 

Within a couple of minutes the three of them started to work on a routine together. 

* 

“Alright Marianne; I want you to do the flip, no hands land into a spin. Watch what I do.” Bog moved to the far end of the room and ran, throwing himself into the air and landing gracefully his arms up in a fighting pose. He danced forward then spun, performe a jump spin to the left dropping into a slight crouch. 

“Okay Dawn; I want you to come at your sister like you're attacking her, dive low under her leap then match her spin and crouch. Mirror her moves. Then I want you both to do this.” 

He did another spin, bringing his left leg up, foot pointed toward the inside of his knee, left arm swinging upward, his right pointing at the elbow. 

Marianne took a short breath watching him. Right now no one would ever guess that Bog couldn't still dance. He was in his element and moving with all the grace and beauty of the seasoned dancer that he was...Marianne had to force herself to pay attention to his instructions because she kept getting lost in watching him move. 

Bog stopped and stepped back. “Okay—from the top.” 

Bog walked over and hit the music, standing to the side, his hands resting on his thin hips watching the girls with a critical eye. He didn't stop them, simply let them go through the whole routine, then walked forward to demonstrate where they had shortened a move. 

When he came over to Marianne. “Okay, you're not putting enough force into your arm gestures here when you and Dawn are supposed to be fighting each other.” He took her arms putting them up into position. “I want you to come at me. You can still put more power behind the gestures while remaining graceful. You're not going to hurt your sister.” 

Dawn giggled. 

Bog smiled. “Okay, let's do that part. Spin around then come at me like we are really going to fight, but remember—we are dancing.” 

Marianne nodded. She took several steps backwards, then a dancer's run toward Bog, a spin, landing in a crouch. Bog mirrored her moves and then they both rushed toward one another. This time Marianne did the arm movements with a little more power while Bog blocked. 

God, the look on his face, those blue eyes...she almost missed her cue to leap back as Bog ran at her and leapt into the air, she dropped and rolled coming up on her feet gracefully. 

Bog landed gracefully as well, but when he landed on his bad leg, the pressure caused it to give out and he fell forward slamming into the floor on his bad side. He jerked then pulled his legs in, going very still. 

“BOG!” She ran over to him dropping to her knees. 

He didn't move. His eyes were closed. He had gone pale as he worked to control the pain. 

“It's fine,” he hissed. “Just...just give me a moment.” 

Marianne reached down and took his hand, wrapping her fingers around his. Bog didn't pull away, but just held on. Marianne could feel he was trembling and struggling to control his breathing until the worst of the pain had passed. After another few minutes he allowed her to help him to his feet. Marianne wrapped an arm around his waist and helped him to a folding chair in a corner of the room. She lowered him to the chair carefully. Bog sat, his leg stretched out in front of him. He gave Marianne a weak smile. “This seems to be becoming a habit with you two, to see me at my worst.” 

Marianne smiled softly. “It's fine and you're not at your worst.” 

Dawn chirped up. “Yeah. You are awesome. No one can dance like you even...well...” She blushed but Bog finished for her. “On his way to being a cripple?” 

Dawn and Marianne both looked shocked and said together. “No!” 

Bog chuckled. “It's alright. I want you two to go through the routine together alright?” 

Marianne laid her hand on his shoulder. “Are you going to be alright?” 

Bog nodded. “Aye...I mean yes...go on.” 

Marianne squeezed his shoulder surprising Bog with the look of tenderness in her eyes. At first he wanted to lash out for a split second...he didn't need pity, but he quickly squashed that feeling. Marianne didn't pity him...he could tell and he would be foolish to lash out at her when it was himself who was feeling pitiful. He sighed and reached out grabbing his slacks. In the pocket were four pain pills. He grabbed all of them and tossed them in his mouth, dry swallowing before the girls saw anything. 

* 

Marianne noticed when Bog started to move better. He was standing up and giving Dawn some direction, taking her arms and demonstrating how she should be holding them. He was still limping a little, but not nearly as much as she thought he would be. She frowned, but then he glanced over at her and those blue eyes struck her. Her heart did a leap right up to her throat. He smiled before turning his attention back to her sister. Marianne swallowed blushing. Damn, he was so good-looking. 

* 

Bog had released them from practice to go shower and grab something to eat. They were supposed to meet back in two hours. Marianne was on her way out to head down to the restaurant to grab some sandwiches for Dawn and her when she turned a corner and ran right into Roland Knight's chest. 

He grinned. “Hey, buttercup.” He grabbed her upper arms when she stumbled back from him. Roland moved her and had her up against the wall before she had enough time to push herself away from him. 

“Now where are you going in such a hurry?” Roland smiled. 

Marianne yanked her arms free. “I'm getting lunch, excuse me.” She started to push past him, but he put an arm in front of her blocking her way. 

“You know you and your sister could have lunch with me.” He gave her what she knew he thought was his winning smile. 

Marianne narrowed her eyes. “Isn't that against the rules?” 

Roland laughed. “Not exactly. Since voting is being done by the viewing audience, it's fine. We do the critiques on the show, but the votes are ultimately up to the viewers. So yeah, we could have lunch...maybe dinner...you could tell me how we know each other.” 

Marianne yanked away from him and she was bout to slap him across the face when a voice interrupted. 

“There you are Marianne, where is Dawn?” 

Roland and Marianne turned to see Bog walking down the hall, freshly showered in a pair of black dress slacks, a button-down black shirt...his hair slicked back. Marianne smiled and shoved away from Roland. “Yeah, she is finishing getting ready.” 

Bog put out his hand. “Well let's go get her. I'm sure you girls are starving.” 

Roland frowned. “Sure you and your sister wouldn't rather have lunch with me? I mean seriously, why eat with the old man?” 

Marianne turned around. “Roland...go away.” 

She took Bog's hand and kept a hold of it as they walked back toward her and Dawn's room. 

After a couple of minutes she sighed. “Thanks for the save.” 

Bog let go of her hand. “Not a problem.” He started to leave, but Marianne reached out and touched his arm. “Would you like to have lunch with Dawn and me? I was just running down to get a couple of sandwiches.” 

Bog blushed. “It's fine, but thank you for the invitation.” 

Marianne watched him walk away, the urge to go after him so strong that she decided to hell with it and jogged after him grabbing his arm again. 

“Come on—it will be fun.” She tugged him around. Bog started to protest again, but her smile, her eyes... 

Bog sighed, accepting defeat. “Fine.” 

* 

Lunch was pleasant. The sister's talked about all sorts of thing, Dawn keeping the conversation flowing all on her own. 

Bog had a difficult time keeping his eyes off Marianne. She was completely unguarded with her sister there, laughing and blushing when Dawn brought up dance recitals and the costumes they wore as little girls. Bog was almost belly-laughing with some of the stories Dawn told. In fact, this lunch was the most fun Bog had had in years. 

After an hour, Bog stood and stretched. “Well, I'm going to go get some stretches in before we pick back up. See you two in about half-an-hour?” 

The sisters nodded, and Bog smiled waving as he walked away. Marianne watched him go her eyes glued to him. 

Dawn chuckled. “Marianne...your tongue is hanging out.” 

Marianne jerked, then smacked her sister. “Hey!” 

Dawn giggled. “You know you should ask him out.” 

Marianne flushed with wide eyes. “I can't do that.” 

“Why not? He isn't “judging” exactly now. I mean he is, but it's the viewer votes that decide if we stay or go. Not him or the other judges now...” Dawn sipped her water giving 

Marianne an expectant look. 

Marianne frowned. She had just heard the same thing from Roland...She gave her sister a look with narrowed eyes...now why did Dawn know that about the rules? Hmm... 

* 

Dawn needed to run back to their room so Marianne headed down to the studio. She heard music playing...she frowned trying to place the song. She knew it...she couldn't place the band's name, but the song was called... “End of All Days” 

Bog was dancing. He was moving slowly, letting the music guide his steps. She stayed in the doorway; he hadn't seemed to notice she was there. Just as he had watched the sisters before without their awareness of an audience, she watched him. He did a beautiful turn and that was when she noticed he had his eyes closed. He was dancing completely to the music, not even watching his moves...just dancing. She slid down to sit on the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees as she watched him. She had never seen anything so beautiful as watching this man, in pain, dance... 

Bog was doped up on his pills, but it was allowing him to dance and that was all he cared about at the moment. He let the music, the lyrics, pull his body this way and that. A slow turn, and delicate leap, a pull back and forth, sliding to the floor then rolling gracefully to his feet. Reaching out to pull the lyrics to his heart, then spreading his arms to let the words flow around him. 

Dawn came jogging up behind Marianne. “Sorry, I'm....” But Marianne reached out and grabbed her sister, stopping her in her tracks. 

Both of them stared, watching Bog move. Marianne wiped her eyes. Every time she watched him dance she could feel the pain of what he was slowly losing. At that moment she resolved, no matter what...she was not going to let him lose this...whatever it took, she was going to make sure that Bog King got to keep dancing.


	5. Give Me a Kiss to Build a Dream On

Bog made a last few adjustments to his outfit, black shirt, with a black tie, and black jacket. He looked like an undertaker, but it also made him look the part of the older judge, which was what the producers liked. He ran a hand through his hair with a frown causing the hairdresser in his dressing room to groan with frustration. 

“Sorry Pare,” Bog muttered. 

“It's alright.” Pare smiled. Bog almost laughed. Pare put on a brave face, but Bog knew he drove Pare crazy. Lizzie glanced over at her husband as she got out her powders. 

“Ran his fingers through his hair again honey?” 

Pare gave his wife the look of the long suffering and Bog did laugh. “I said I was sorry!” 

Lizzie came over and started to put make-up on Bog. “If you were sorry Bog, you wouldn't do it constantly.” She grinned at him. 

Lizzie and Pare, happily married for as long as Bog had known them, had been doing his hair and makeup for the show from the get-go. They were an amusing couple and 

Bog envied them. It was clear how happy they were today. 

Lizzie muttered as she had for the millionth time since she started doing Bog's makeup. “You sure you won't let me put on just a little eyeliner?” 

Bog pressed his lips into a thin line. Lizzie had been trying to get him to let her use eyeliner on him from the moment they met, telling him how they would bring out his eyes. He always laughed and declined her offer, but tonight? He suddenly surprised himself and Lizzie. “Go ahead.” 

Lizzie choked. “Are you serious?” 

“Yes, but you better hurry before I change my mind.” Bog frowned. What was he doing? Okay, he knew what he was doing...it was Marianne....she made him want to look his best. Oh, he was a fool. 

* 

The show itself went along swimmingly, though Bog wanted to slam his fist into Roland's face. When the camera wasn't on them, tuned to Marianne and Dawn's performance, the lustful way Roland stared made Bog want to break every bone in Roland's face. 

Neither man noticed that Marianne only had eyes for Bog. She did notice the eyeliner, the way his blue eyes popped. She thought that he was incredibly attractive dressed all in black, the way his accent rolled over his words as he critiqued their performance. 

Dawn had leaned in close to her sister whispering against her ear. “You're going to start slobbering if you ain't careful there sis.” 

Marianne elbowed Dawn on the stomach lightly. 

* 

The next day as they waited for viewers' votes, Marianne and Dawn were rehearsing for a dance performance for the evening. No judging, just dancing. Four of them would participate in a group performance. Marianne's mind, however, was distracted with Bog. She thought about him sitting at the judges' table, all in black, his eyes outlined in black. She had dreams about him last night. A Reaper come to take her soul, black wings had snapped out from his back, his long fingered hand extended toward her. She had reached for him willingly. Dream Bog had pulled her close against his body; those eyes of his burned in her dream, the black outlines made the blue fire in them leap out into her soul. He smiled and led her in a dance, a waltz, the wings on his back moving with them casting shadows in the candlelight that lined the ballroom. At the end of the dance he had dipped her, smiling, those lips so close, his breath, warm and tickling her. She had reached out, running the fingers of her hands into his hair pulling him down to press their lips together, their tongues caressing, warm, wet...and then she had woken up in her hotel room to the sounds of her sister in the shower singing at the top of her lungs some song by Pink. 

The dream kept coming back to her while they rehearsed. She just couldn't get the man out of her mind. And then she saw him walk by...he wore dance pants that clung to his muscled thighs, hips, calves. He wasn't wearing a shirt either. He walked past the open door swiftly carrying a bag and an old CD player. 

Marianne frowned, the urge to follow him was so strong that she had almost walked right out the door, but suddenly she heard her sister asking. “Hey guys can we take a break? I could use a fresh bottle of water and some food.” 

The other girls cheered, happy to take a quick break. 

Marianne turned around to look at her sister who was grinning. “Why don't you go say hi to him?” 

Marianne blushed. So Dawn had seen her watching Bog walk by. 

“You think he would mind?” Marianne chewed her bottom lip, but Dawn grabbed her shoulders and spun her around. “Go.” 

Then she gave her older sister a shove out the door. 

* 

Marianne walked down the hall peaking into the dance studios down here. All were occupied with groups of dancers from the show. She finally came to the last one. She swallowed and leaned against the door listening. The music playing was Latin. 

* 

Bog was angry. Roland has been talking to Sunny about Marianne. Sunny had been trapped and was trying to get away, but Roland had him cornered. He was talking about Marianne like she was a piece of meat, discussing her physical attributes like he was considering buying a fucking horse. Bog had grabbed Roland by the shoulder and turned him hard, slamming him up against the wall, getting right in his face, threatening him if he touched her. 

Sunny had grabbed Bog by the arm asking him to calm down. Bog really wasn't sure what had come over him, but hearing Roland talk about Marianne like that had not only made his stomach roll, but had made him want to defend her and rip Roland's throat out. 

Roland had laughed at him, calling Bog an old ugly monster and said that a beauty like Marianne would never want anything to do with him. Plus, Roland had added, he was a washed up has-been in the dance community and someone like Marianne would never hook her cart to a lame horse like him. With that, Roland had shoved Bog away and walked off laughing while Sunny had kept a hold of Bog. 

Bog had needed to burn off some steam. He downed a handful of pain pills and was here in one of the studios to burn off the rest of his anger. 

He had started to do a few solo salsa moves, but the dance was too controlled for what he was feeling. With a frustrated stomp, he had gone over and changed the music to something a bit more...rock...something he could just dance to without form and precision...something that would let out all this anger and self-loathing. He pulled out a CD he had made full of music that would allow him to dance aggressively, without form and structure—just pure emotion. 

He smirked a bit at his music choice, Foo Fighters “Pretender” being the first track. He hit the play button, stretching his arms over his head, standing on his tiptoes as he did so, having kicked off his dance shoes. 

He didn't hear the soft click of the studio door opening. 

He spun and as the music began, his arm movements were hard, sharp. He ran across the room performing a perfect leap to land on both feet, coming up and arching backwards, his long legs coming around in a standing cartwheel. He spun, adding a few tight ballet moves before he dropped to the floor catching himself on his hands and toes. 

He arched an arm back, rolling with it then came back up to his feet gracefully. 

Marianne leaned on the door watching all the passion, the anger...she could feel it in his dancing. He did a series of swift spins looking as if he was about to slam into the wall, but he stopped himself with the flat of his palms slamming aggressively into the wall pushing himself back and running again for another series of high leaps, the last landed with a hard impact against the polished floor. 

Marianne winced in sympathy though Bog showed no indication that the impact had hurt as he stood and spun, a swift series of ballet spins. The man was pushing himself too hard. Marianne knew he was going to be in a great deal of pain after this, but it was worth the show....no one could dance with as much passion, as much pain and emotion than Bog King. She remembered watching him on the ballroom dancing circuit, the emotion in him was palpable. 

He slowed down with the music as a different song played, the hard heavy rhythms slowing for a moment. He hit the floor dropping to his knees, leaning forward to drop his whole body down, his fists slamming into the floor. He then rolled, flowing with the music; now his movements were more controlled to fit the change in the musics tempo. He rolled with it, one leg stretching high then over and he pushed himself to his feet gradually. 

She could see the strain in his muscles as he moved. The music changed to a more “rock” version of Palladio. Bog changed with it moving across the dance floor his arms forming graceful arches, his legs flowed with the music carrying him across the room. She sucked in a breath watching him do a Grande Jeté. She had never seen another dancer like him. 

She gasped when he got closer thinking she had just gotten caught when she saw that his eyes were closed. He was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, the locks of his hair plastered to his forehead as he did several Tour en l'air then a series of Pirouettes before he suddenly stumbled. 

He got up, picking up where he had left off, but he stumbled again. Marianne watched his leg give out and he slammed down hard on his bad side. The pain was enough that he curled into it for a moment. She wasn't going run to him because she had been spying. She took a step back, carefully closing the door. It hurt not to go to him, but she was certain that he would not appreciate her spying on him or treating him like an invalid. So she forced herself to walk away. 

* 

Bog hissed as the pain shot through him like a bolt of lightning. He knew he had been pushing it. God damn it, he thought. He had been pushing his limits a great deal this season already. As the pain abated somewhat, he pushed himself up to a sitting position to lean back on his arms with his legs straight out. He knew from experience if he tried to stand now, his leg would just give out. 

It was becoming clear to him the pills were helping less and less despite the fact he ate the stupid things like candy. 

He slowly laid back to stare at the ceiling. What was he doing? How many times had he asked himself that? His doctor wanted him to consider a cane, to give up dancing. Bog wanted to get a second opinion, but another part of him didn't want the cane confirmed. He kept putting it off; he hadn't gotten a second opinion yet. 

After a few more moments of lying there on the hard floor, he felt like he could get up without collapsing. As he limped over to gather his things, he started to wonder if what he needed was something stronger. 

* 

Roland had stormed off after the spat with Bog. God, he hated that man. He had heard Bog King's name all of his professional life and he was sick of it. The man was a washed out dancer who had never had any real talent! It was too bad that accident hadn't killed him, Roland thought. 

Roland new about the pills...not how bad Bog's addiction was, or that he even had one; all Roland knew was that Bog took pain medication along with some others because of the accident. With a spark of insight, Roland came up with a wickedly brilliant idea. What if a few of Bog's pills were a bit stronger than Vicodin...what if Bog was addicted to heroin? He would be run off the show, out of the business completely...Roland grinned. Oh, he knew people, a lot of people who dealt in harder drugs...he had had a few in his time. His grin broadened. It was perfect. He would either help Bog kill himself or he would get the prick driven out of show business for good. There was no downside! It was a win-win! With his plans formulating, Roland hurried off pulling his cellphone out of his pocket. 

“Let's see who can help a guy out.” Roland smiled heading quickly toward someplace with more privacy. 

* 

The show went well that night. The dance routine that Marianne, her sister and the two other young women performed came off without a hitch. Votes came in; both Marianne and her sister were safe. 

That evening as they were leaving the recording studio to head back to the hotel, Dawn nearly ran right into Sunny. He grinned up at her, his heart beating hard in his chest. 

She is a gorgeous piece of sunlight brought to life, he thought. Sorta like Venus...brought into existence by magic. 

“Oh! Hey!” She blushed with a smile brightening her face even more. 

Sunny grinned “Uah...Hi. I...well I was wondering if you would like to catch a bite to eat? I'm going to be leading you and your sister in the next dance, hip hop, and I thought maybe you and I could discuss music over dinner if you like.” Sunny smiled again as a small voice inside whispered, “Please say yes, please say yes.” 

Dawn glanced over to where Marianne was waiting for her. “Give me just a minute, but I would love to go!” 

He watched her hurry over to her sister where they talked for a couple of seconds and then she ran back to him. “Let's go!” 

Sunny put his arm out to her, his grin threatening to become stuck that way. He was so happy! Sunny had dated plenty of girls, with the popularity of the show making him a household name but none of them had the affect Dawn Summerfield had on him. Her smile sent shivers down his back, her eyes made his heart skip a beat and then her dancing!! 

There were no words he had to describe what watching her dance did to him. He smiled happily (and a bit foolishly, he would be the first to admit) and she was agreeing to go out to dinner with him! How lucky could a guy get? 

Dawn was leaping on the inside, but she was doing her best to remain calm. Sunny had asked her out to dinner!! She had quickly asked Marianne what that meant and Marianne had told her to just go for it, go with the flow. He seemed like a really nice guy, the worst would be he was like Roland, but Marianne had told Dawn she was pretty sure Roland was a one of a kind jerk. 

Marianne smiled watching her sister leave with Sunny. She was just about to turn around and head out when she nearly ran into Bog. 

Bog smiled. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest watching Sunny and Dawn. 

“They look good together,” he said softly. 

Marianne smiled in agreement. “Yeah, they do. I hope they...well...I hope it works out.” 

Bog nodded then turned to gaze down at her. He adjusted his stance to lean against the wall. “So what are you up to?” 

Marianne sighed. “Figured I would head back, get something to eat and go to bed early.” 

Bog nodded. “Would you like to grab something to eat with me?” 

Marianne blushed as a gentle smile formed on her lips. “Sure.” 

Bog motioned for her to follow him. 

* 

They went outside with Marianne walking beside Bog. Today, he was dressed in a pair of slacks, a dark blue dress shirt with a black and white pinstripe vest over it. He had the eyeliner on again. Marianne found it sexy the way the black made his eyes seem to jump out, the blue almost electric. 

“So where are we going?” Marianne managed to keep pace with him only because she jogged a little to keep up. 

“I thought we might hit this little place I know,” he explained. “It's not terribly popular only because no one can find it. They have great Scottish farm sandwiches.” Bog grinned as they walked up to his car. Tonight the car was different than the one she drove after the party. This one was white. She glanced at Bog who blushed. “It's new. It's a 2016 Nissan 370Z. I bought it a month ago for taking my mother around town in.” 

“You bought a new car just to take your mother driving in?” Marianne blinked and Bog laughed. 

“No, no, not like that exactly. I bought it to give to her, but she said it was too much car for her. I got her a mini coop instead, but I use this one to drive her around when it's the two of us. The coop is a little uncomfortable.” He pointed at his long legs. 

Marianne laughed. “Yeah, I bet.” 

Bog opened the door for her and Marianne slipped in. She thought the car was rather nice inside and it had that new car smell that for some reason was always so intoxicating. Bog smiled at her and Marianne's heart fluttered. He was gorgeous. The car wasn't the only thing she found intoxicating. 

* 

They drove downtown until they came across what looked to be a few old stores and restaurants. Bog parked the car. “Wait here,” he said. “I'll be right back. I'll go grab us some food and we can go eat at my place or maybe we can park someplace?” 

“Sounds good, hurry back.” Marianne smiled at him and Bog blushed with a chuckle and a nod. 

If it was any guy but Bog, she would assume they were trying to get her someplace quiet and try to get into her pants, but not Bog. He was too much of a gentleman. About fifteen minutes later, Bog came out carrying a large sack and holding two large drinks. Marianne leaned over and opened the car door for him. 

He reached in to hand one of the drinks to her. “Iced tea—I hope that's alright?” 

Marianne smiled. “Perfect.” 

Bog handed her the bag and got into the car. The smell made her stomach rumble loudly. Bog glanced sideways at her. “Hungry?” 

Marianne made a face at him, which had Bog laughing. 

* 

Bog drove them to a little park that was located around a small lake. Lights bordered the water so that people could walk in the evenings. While he drove the vehicle around to find a place to park, Marianne plastered herself against the glass. The lake reflected the lights of the city in such a way that it made the reflection look magical. 

“This is beautiful!” Marianne whispered in astonishment. 

Bog smiled as he turned off the car's engine. "You should see it in winter with the snow." 

Marianne grinned. “I would love to,” she said. “Maybe someday I'll get to come back in the winter.” 

Bog nodded, for a moment visualizing her in a hat and scarf, her cheeks rosy from the cold. She would look cute he thought. He took the restaurant bag and opened it, pulling out the sandwiches. 

They ate in silence for a while, watching the water occasionally move, a ripple racing across the surface, the city's lights wavering. 

Marianne leaned back in her seat with a hand over her stomach. “I might explode.” 

Bog laughed. “Please, not in the car!” 

Marianne giggled. “I promise if I feel I'm about to explode, I will open the door and race for the water.” 

Bog laughed. “I appreciate it. These seats are expensive to clean.” 

They both laughed, then fell into a only slightly uncomfortable silence. Marianne turned to look over at him. He was looking out the front window watching the water. She thought that his profile was attractive...sharp features, prominent nose and the most purely blue eyes she had ever seen. There was a slight downward turn to his mouth that spoke of pain. 

Bog suddenly turned to her. “Wanna dance?” 

Marianne blinked in confusion. “What?” 

Bog laughed. “Slow dance...you want to slow dance with me? 

Marianne grinned looking out at the water for a moment and then laughed as she said, “Yes!” 

Bog got out, hurrying over to open her door for her. He held his hand out to her and she took it feeling strange for a moment as she looked up into his eyes. As if she were taking a step toward something new in her life. He smiled at her and her heart did a peculiar roll over in her chest, but before she could examine it any further, he had let go of her hand to lean in and turn the key in the car. The vehicle purred to life and he messed around with stereo. Soon the sounds of Louis Armstrong started to play, “A Kiss to Build A Dream On.” 

Marianne grinned up at Bog as he stood there smiling at her, the moonlight and the lamplight making his eyes stand out. It was a perfect song to dance to by a beautiful lake in the middle of the night. 

He bowed, his hand held out to her like a prince in a fairytale story, his other arm behind his back. He gazed up at her with a bright grin. She took his hand and he easily tugged her against him, while his other hand went around her waist. Marianne settled her free hand against his shoulder. They started to move, automatically falling into the steps of a waltz-like dance. The lights around the park allowed them to see each other in the dim light. She thought that his blue eyes sparkled like they were stars themselves. 

Bog swallowed hard as he looked down at Marianne. She was so beautiful, so sweet, so strong... 

He didn't realize he was singing the song to her as they danced. His voice was low and warm, the accent giving it a certain lilt that sent shivers down Marianne's spine. 

* 

Give me a kiss to build a dream on 

And my imagination will thrive upon that kiss 

Sweetheart, I ask no more than this 

A kiss to build a dream on 

Give me a kiss before you leave me 

And my imagination will feed my hungry heart 

Leave me one thing before we part 

A kiss to build a dream on 

And when I'm alone with my fancies, I'll be with you 

Weaving romances, making believe they're true 

Oh, give me your lips for just a moment 

And my imagination will make that moment live 

Give me what you alone can give 

A kiss to build a dream on 

When I'm alone with my fancies, I'll be with you 

Weaving romances, making believe they're true 

Oh, give me lips for just a moment 

And my imagination will make that moment live 

Oh, give me what you alone can give 

A kiss to build a dream on 

* 

Marianne stared up at Bog raptly. His voice rolled over the words of the song, the slight accent was like warm caramel. She swallowed—something was happening. She had no idea what it was, but she had never felt anything like this before, as if something in the universe...her universe...had changed. This was probably stupid...very stupid, but all the elements were in place and she was going to be damned if she let this moment pass. 

So she did the only thing that could be done. 

She kissed him.


	6. Man on the Rocks

As Marianne's lips pressed against Bog's mouth, the warmth of him seemed to soak into her body burning all her nerve endings in the most exquisite and sensual way she could imagine. 

Instead of an electrical shock running through his body, kissing Marianne was like having warm honey poured over him. Slow, sweet and sensual. Bog caved in to the dream, returning her kiss, his tongue meeting the questing tip of hers. His hand came up to grasp the back of her head, his fingers forming into a gentle fist full of her soft hair while his other hand spanned her back, fingers pressing against her, feeling the warmth of her body through the layers of clothing. He dipped her slightly. The kiss deepened, their tongues sliding, swirling against each other in their own kind of dance. Marianne's fingers grasped at him digging into his back, desperate to hold onto him, the sexual tension between them building until it threatened to consume them both; when suddenly Bog stopped, pulling back from her. 

“I'm...I...” Bog stood her up, his face burning with embarrassment—though he didn't let go of her. 

Marianne placed her hands on his shoulders as if daring him to challenge her. 

“Don't you dare say you're sorry because I was the one that kissed you and I would do it again.” Marianne grinned at him, her eyes managing to sparkle in the dim light. 

Bog swallowed, looking slightly uncomfortable; he clearly didn't know what to say as he dropped his gaze. 

Marianne pressed her fingers into his shoulders tenderly, massaging them in her attempt to calm him. 

“Is it against the rules, I mean, to fraternize with the competitors?” Marianne asked, though it was clear from her expression she knew the answer. 

Bog swallowed. He may have stopped kissing her, but he hadn't pulled away, his hands having dropped to her slim waist. 

“No...not exactly,” he ventured. “It's not in the rules since from this point on we no longer do the judging, the public does. But...” 

Marianne tilted her head. Her brown eyes were warm, mischievous. “But...you don't like me?” 

Bog blinked in surprise. “No, no I mean...yes. Yes I do like you Marianne, but...I'm so much older than you....I'm...” His voice hitched. “I'm broken.” 

His words felt like a knife in her heart. He saw himself as broken? She reached up to caress his cheek, her fingers tracing down the hollow of his cheek, then slowly along his jaw. His skin was warm, and she could feel the slight bristle of stubble. There was a series of small scars on his chin that she wondered about as her fingers traced over them. Her fingertips continued to trace his long jaw then over his full, bottom lip. She had had a crush on Bog King for quite a long time. She had been mesmerized by his dancing, the emotion he put into his movements, and the grace of his body. She had fallen for his passion, his skill, the way he let the music transport him when he danced. But now, being with him, close up, talking to him, watching him dance in person, getting to know the man... kissing him...he was better than she ever imagined. He was just as passionate and graceful as she imagined, but he was also so much more than that...there was a depth to him that she longed to explore, to wade into the man that was Bog King... 

“You're not broken, Bog.” She smiled at him and Bog felt himself melting while looking into her lovely brown eyes. She suddenly made him feel that he could overcome anything...that he wanted to be more than what he was... 

“Marianne...” 

The way he said her name, that slight purr of his accent had Marianne's blood running hot and her heart reaching out to him. She gently pulled him back down to her, brushing her lips against his, seeing the pain in his eyes. Marianne whispered again, “You are not broken Bog...” before she kissed him again. Bog yanked her against him, pressing her body against his while his hands caressed down the curl of her back. Marianne smiled. She could drown in this man... 

* 

Roland was waiting outside a local tattoo parlour with his hands shoved deep in his pockets to warm them against the cold and a hat pulled down low to hopefully keep his features hidden from any adoring fans or paparazzi. It wasn't that he wasn't accustomed to buying drugs (he had his own cocaine habit to feed), but tonight he was buying something new....or perhaps it was his guilty conscience trying to tell him something, but Roland had never been one to listen to his conscience. 

After another few minutes of waiting, just when Roland was contemplating taking off, a sedan drove up and the window rolled down. Loud music throbbed out of the vehicle. 

The man inside had close cropped hair and a wide smile. He grinned at Roland. 

“Hop in.” 

Roland glanced around, then quickly dashed over to open the car door and hop into the passenger seat as if he were being chased. 

The man inside pressed his lips down on a chuckle while he pulled out, rolling up the window and turning down the music. The driver glanced sideways at Roland before he spoke. 

“So, heroin? Dude if what you said over the phone is what you're wanting to do, heroin is not what you want.” 

Roland frowned, folding his arms over his chest. “So if I want to mess with someone already addicted to pain pills what do I want Martin?” 

Martin grinned. “You, my friend, want fentanyl.” 

Roland frowned turning to look at Martin. “Fentanyl? What's that?” 

“Only pain med that is stronger than morphine...” Martin grinned. 

“So...what's it do?” Roland still looked confused. 

“Look man, you give this person you want to mess with a big enough dose, he'll be tripping fast. Just gotta be careful, you can overdose real easy on this stuff.” Martin turned his attention back to the road. 

Roland grinned. “Really? Interesting.” 

Martin nodded. “I'm serious man, you can kill someone easy with it. So be careful, but I can get it in the Actiq form then we can change it, make it look however you want.” 

“Actiq?” Roland frowned. 

“Yeah...it's in the form of a sucker, you know, a lollipop, but I can mess with it, break it down and disguise it as pills if that's what you want. All I ask is that you don't implicate me in anyway if you get caught...you do...everyone knows about your cocaine addiction.” 

Roland laughed. “Oh no problem. I won't get caught.” 

Martin nodded. “Well then, let's talk about price.” 

* 

They had gone back to Bog's car for warmth, which ended up with Marianne sitting on Bog's lap while they kissed. Bog was a tender, attentive kisser, his lips pressing against hers were gentle and sweet, but then could turn fiery and passionate. At one point his lips had traveled down her throat, stopping at her pulse, his teeth very gently scraping against her skin as his thumb caressed over her exposed collarbone where his fingers held down her shirt. He had stroked her skin with his tongue, completely taking away her ability to breathe properly. 

Marianne burned to feel that tongue other places when he had stopped. She was having a hard time gathering her breath. Their clothes were rumpled from their making out and they were both breathing hard. She had managed to snake her hands under his shirt, feeling the ripple of muscle and how silky his skin felt under her fingers. Bog had let out a soft moan at her touch which had turned her on more than his touches had so far. She had ground her hips against him, feeling that he was extremely turned on as well, especially when she had bent down to bite his Adam's apple. 

She sat back and smiled, tracing his lips with a finger. “You're probably right...we should stop...” She brushed her nose against his as a wicked smile danced across her lips. 

Bog stared into those warm brown eyes and whispered. 

“I suppose we could wait a little longer before going back.” 

Marianne giggled as she agreed with his statement. “I suppose we could.” 

With that settled, Marianne went back to chewing gently at his exposed neck delighting in the moans her attentions elicited and the feel of his fingers sliding under her clothing, caressing her skin along her hips. His hands slid up over her hips to her waist, caressing her ribs before his long fingers slipped under her bra. Marianne moaned at the touch of his fingers along the underside of her breasts. His hands rolled over the soft mounds to rest over her breasts giving them a gentle, experimental squeeze. She arched her back encouraging him to keep touching her. The brush of his thumb was delicious while she worked to mark his neck, both of them grinding against each other. 

* 

The next day Bog was riding on cloud nine. Nothing had happened beyond an intense make-out session, but it had been...heavenly. Marianne made him feel wonderful, young. He was not 'healed' yet, but she made him feel like things could get better. His lips still burned from their kissing and his dreams had been full of the two of them dancing...together...making love....imagining her naked under him. He had woken up happy; something he had not experienced in years. When he had gone into the bathroom that morning, he saw the mark that Marianne had left low on his neck. He blushed laying his hand over it, like a kiss left on his skin. 

While he showered, a small darkness fell over him suddenly. What if, after the show...what if they went further than kissing...would she be disappointed in him? He couldn't remember the last time he had been intimate with anyone...hell, he hadn't kissed anyone in years. What would she think of the pills...or rather his abuse of them. Bog wasn't blind to his own addiction; he just didn't know what to do about it. He just couldn't give up trying to dance...he would rather be dead. Would she hate him if she found out? 

Bog had to force himself to focus on the present, not on the what ifs...let the present be enough... 

* 

When Bog came in to work the next morning, he was all smiles again. He was so lost in his own happiness from last night that he almost ran into Sunny in one of the halls heading to the dance studios. Sunny was smiling to the point that he looked as if his face might start hurting when he nearly collided with Bog. Both men laughed. Sunny grinned. 

“Hey Bog!” 

Bog smiled in returned. “How was your date last night?” 

Sunny blushed. “Would it be too soon to say I'm in love?” 

Bog's brows lifted. “Really? That good?” 

Sunny stopped and leaned against the wall. “Bog, my friend, she is perfect.” 

Bog chuckled. “Perfect? Really, how interesting.” 

Sunny blushed looking down at his tennis shoes. “I know, I know, but man—I do think I'm in love. I've never connected with someone the way I have with her. It's...” Sunny paused glancing up at the ceiling as if he were looking for the right words hovering there. Finally he murmured in awe, “It's like she's my soul-mate.” 

Bog reached out and patted Sunny's shoulder. “If you feel that way, don't let her go Sunny. True love is rare.” 

Sunny blushed and nodded. “You're right, Bog,” he agreed. “Thanks man.” 

Bog just smiled. 

* 

Roland slipped into Bog's dressing room. He didn't have the tablets yet. Martin said it would take a day or two. The price was steep, but if it got rid of Bog King, Roland felt it was money well spent. Especially when Roland heard this morning that Bog was getting that high profile interview to promote the show. That entertainment news show was stupid, but it also reached millions upon millions of viewers...Roland pouted. He should be the one doing that interview! He was far better looking and that kind of exposure would mean a lot more money for him in deals and other TV show appearances. Hell, maybe even a motion picture deal!! Instead the producers put up that washed up has-been on the program. The idiots. 

Roland went back to searching Bog's dressing room for those pain pills he knew Bog took. Roland snickered to himself. Would have been better for him if Bog had lost that leg in the accident...then he couldn't dance at all and would have faded into nothingness. Roland grinned. Well, when fate doesn't work with you, you create your own. 

Roland glanced around the room. Now, where would he keep them? Bog sometimes carried the bottle with him, Roland had seen him pull it out of his pocket, but most of the time he carried the pills loose. Roland figured if he could find the bottle he would be able to easily slip the fentanyl in with his other pills...the scarecrow would never know until it was too late. 

After a little bit of searching, Roland finally found a prescription bottle tucked into a drawer in a make-up table. Roland picked up the amber bottle with a grin. He shook the bottle wondering if Bog kept count...probably. Roland would have to be careful; when he slipped in the new pills, he would have to make sure he remove the same amount...he could do that. Easily accomplished, he thought with a smirk. Roland had just slipped the bottle back into the drawer when Bog opened the door. Bog stood there for a moment staring at Roland, piercing him in place with an ice blue gaze. 

“What are you doing in here?” Bog voice was low. 

Roland smiled. “Nothing man, just walked in the wrong door. Geez, hostile much?” With that Roland shouldered past Bog. Bog watched him go, narrowing his eyes. He didn't believe the bugger, but he couldn't think of a good reason why Roland would be in his dressing room, so he let it go. Bog walked over and sat down in the chair facing the mirror. 

He pulled out the drawer from the make-up table left over from the last person to have this room. He picked up the pill bottle. They were still there. Bog frowned glancing at the door before he opened the bottle, dumping a handful of the white tablets into the palm of his hand. He immediately took four, shoving another five into his pocket. He took a deep breath but, then he smiled. He would see Marianne today...that made the rest of his day seem infinitely better. 

* 

Marianne and Dawn had just received the orders for the next performance dance and the next competition dance. The competition dance this week was hip-hop. 

Dawn squealed. “Oh this means we get to work with Sunny!!” 

Marianne chuckled. Sunny was all her sister had talked about since she got up this morning. Sunny this and Sunny that...Marianne was fairly sure Dawn was in love. She had never seen her sister react to a guy like she was about Sunny. Their date had been dinner and dancing at some new hot club. Dawn had gone on and on about Sunny, how at the restaurant they shared their food and laughed even though it was a pretty fancy place. Dawn had glowed when she discussed the club and how Sunny danced with her. He had asked permission to kiss her good night. He had even asked her out on another date! Dawn was clearly on cloud nine. 

Marianne, on the other hand, had kept quiet about her date with Bog. Their date had been like a special gift she would keep close. A gift she would open to gaze upon in wonder, cradled against her heart...she could even now remember the feel of his lips against hers, the warmth of his hands on her back, his tongue on her throat, the way they danced at the lake. His eyes, his hands warm against her breasts, his tongue on her throat...she shivered with the memory. Pulling herself back to the present, Marianne grinned when she saw the performance dance...it was to be a partner dance of their choice...the dance could be anything except hip-hop since that was the competition dance for the night before, but partner dance...Marianne looked up at her sister. 

“The partner dance...do you mind if I ask someone else to partner with me?” 

Dawn glanced up at her big sister from where she had been pulling on her protective pads for her knees. Marianne was worried she might be hurt, but Dawn's light blue eyes only reflected relief. 

“Oh gosh,” she said. “I'm so glad you brought it up first. I was going to ask you the same thing...I was thinking about asking Sunny...I mean contestants have partnered with the judges in the past. I mean it hasn't been done the last several seasons, but nowhere in the rules does it say...” 

Marianne held up her hand to stop her sister from continuing. “I wanted to ask Bog...” 

The two sisters looked each other in the eye just before they both started to laugh. 

* 

Marianne had just finished rehearsing for the hip-hop number. She was paired with her sister again. (She figured the producers liked the drama of the two sisters, who not only danced well together, but also were in competition with each at the same time...except there was no drama between them. They both fully supported each other, no matter the outcome.) 

The hip-hop number was being done to “The Way I Are” by Timbaland. Dawn and Marianne had worked themselves to the bone, but Marianne was far too excited to relax. 

She wanted to find Bog and ask him to partner with her. 

She had just stepped outside the dance studio where they had been working with Sunny and a couple of other dancers, all doing different routines when she heard Bog's frustrated voice. 

She followed the sound until she came around a corner to see Bog was on his cellphone. He was wearing a pair of compression base-layered tights which emphasized his legs and a black ragged t-shirt that read “Dancing is like a Sport only Harder.” He was leaning against the wall looking tired and annoyed. 

“I don't see why I have to do another interview. Why can't Sunny, Aura or Roland do it? Why does it have to be me? “ He was silent for a moment listening, then growled. “What does my age have to do with anything?” 

He was quiet though she could see the scowl deepening on his face. She tiptoed over and waved to let him know she was there. When he saw her his expression immediately changed to something softer. He smiled at her and his blue eyes seemed to glow lighter when he saw her. 

“Yes, I know my career has been longer, but why...yes...fine...” He ended the call with a slam of his thumb. 

He turned his attention to Marianne. “Sorry about that.” 

Marianne smiled, waving a hand at him. “Hey I'm the one who came up on you while you were on the phone—don't apologize.” 

Bog smiled then sighed. “They want me to do another interview for the show.” 

“I gathered.” Marianne came over to lean against the wall opposite him. “Hate interviews?” She asked. 

Bog shrugged. “Yeah...they always inevitably turn to my accident, my love life, do I still dance, am I still single. Roland would love doing more interviews,” Bog said with a slight shake of his head and a smirk. “I don't know why they don't ask him.” He sighed with frustration. 

“Maybe because you're more interesting.” Marianne smiled up at him. Bog returned her smile, his heart thumping hard in his chest. Marianne's eyes wandered down his neck to the hint of the hickey she had left the night before. 

Bog noticed the way her eyes ran down and stopped at the hickey. He blushed. “So ah...were you looking for me?” 

Marianne grinned. “Yes, I was actually. We just got our dance numbers and the performance piece is a two person piece of our choice,” she explained. “Anyway, I wanted to ask if you would be my partner, and before you protest, I looked over the rules—the judges can dance in the performance only sections. So...I thought we could do a dance together if you think...” 

Bog stared at her then he spoke up before he could stop himself or over think it. “Yes.” 

Marianne was about to continue making her case when realized he had said yes. “Yes?” 

Bog smiled. “Yes. What kind of dance did you have in mind again?” 

Marianne wanted to squeal, to jump around like her sister would have, but instead she said. 

“I was thinking of doing a swing dance.” 

Bog grinned. “I like the way your mind thinks.” 

* 

Together they headed off to one of the empty practice rooms after Bog had stopped off at costuming. That was where they kept a large collection of music along a back wall. Marianne knew her mouth had fallen open making her look like a fish when she saw the wall. It was one whole wall full of shelves and every shelf was full of CD's, vinyl records, cassette tapes...a vast array of music from which to choose. Bog was busy yanking out some CD's while Marianne stared in wonder at the wall. 

“Okay, I have several for us to pick from.” Bog turned around with his arms full of CD's. Marianne grinned. “That is a lot of music.” 

Bog turned to look at the wall and laughed. “Yeah, I guess it is. Lot of this is from my private collection, but I store it here so anyone can use it.” 

Marianne blinked. “This is yours?” 

Bog shrugged. 

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask Bog exactly how rich he was, but she decided in the next instant that she didn't want to know. 

* 

They hurried to their empty practice room and began picking out what they wanted to dance to... 

After an hour they finally settled on “Booty Swing” by Parov Stelar. 

Bog put the music in and after a brief discussion of a routine, the two of them started to dance, simply letting the music move them (Bog was thankful that he had taken the five pills in his pocket just minutes before Marianne had found him.) 

Bog grinned pulling Marianne against him, one hand holding hers, the other around her waist. They started with a few hopping steps in a lively circle around the dance floor before they separated naturally, both of them flowing into a swinging Charleston, moving in perfect synchronicity. They stepped to their right swinging their right feet straight behind them, then, with a shift of their weight to the right foot, swinging their left arms forward, they did the exact same with their left both of them laughing. Bog grabbed her hand pulling her into a swift chicken walk with Marianne moving her hips in a back and forth shimmy that Bog knew would be as intoxicating for an audience to watch as it was for him to experience it with her. She matched the chicken walk with a quick series of half-time steps.

Bog grinned performing a series of half-time steps that made it difficult for Marianne not to focus on his hips. Next they rolled into a catapult with Bog holding her hand as she danced around him before they?turned it into a sugar step, grinning at each other. He pulled her close, holding her against him as they did a dancing trot around the room in time to the music. 

Bog was feeling no pain, though he knew as quickly and as hard as they were dancing he was going to suffer for it tonight, and suffer badly. 

Marianne was completely mesmerized as Bog moved with her as if he were an extension of her own body. Dancing with him, staring into his blue eyes, seemed like the most natural thing in the world to her. 

They did a Lindy swing out, then a Texas Tommy swing out. They were moving swiftly to the music as they grinned at each other. 

Bog pulled her in and she hopped up, putting her bent legs lightly on his thigh, then she jumped off. Bog swung her out, pulling her back in, lifting her off the floor, grabbing her behind as she pointed her legs out on either side of him. Then Bog lifted her into the air. 

Bog jerked slightly as a burning hot pain raced up his injured thigh slicing into his hip. Bog ground his teeth keeping the pain at bay as he easily swing Marianne around his back, rotating her back to his front and rolled her over his forearm to her feet. Marianne could not get over how strong he was! He did he lift, rolling her over his forearm as if she weighed nothing at all! 

Bog grabbed both her hands for another sugar step before he rolled her around and lifted her up again, but this time the pain would not be ignored. 

Bog lost his footing as the pain slammed into his hip with such force that Bog's leg simply gave out. He stumbled to the side, then tried to compensate and fell backward. He managed to wrap his arms around Marianne's waist, yanking her body against his so that he didn't drop her; he simply took her with him when he fell, using his body to protect hers from the hard dance floor. 

Bog slammed to the dance floor hard enough that it knocked the air from his lungs and nearly twisted his knees, but he was used to falling, used to the pain and the weakness reaching his leg. He managed to throw out his injured leg fast enough when it collapsed he didn't damage it further by wrenching his knee. 

Marianne's head bounced against Bog's chest when they fell. For a long moment neither of them moved. Marianne rolled over. “Oh my god Bog, are you alright?” 

He swallowed as he tried to school his features. “I'm sorry Marianne...you should find someone else to dance with.” 

Marianne stayed on top of him, straddling him. She put her hands on either side of his face forcing him to look at her. 

“Hey, we just cut the lifts okay? It's just a performance, not a competition dance remember?” Marianne gently stroked his cheeks. 

Oddly, her touch was helping with the pain, but then Bog did something he thought he would never do, he lied. 

“I...I didn't take my pain meds today. Thought I could go without them.” 

Marianne frowned. “Bog...you can't do that!” 

She pushed herself up and then carefully helped him to his feet. “Where are they?” 

Bog pointed. “The pocket of my slacks. I can get them.” Silently Bog was thankful that he had gone back to his dressing room and grabbed the bottle. 

Marianne put her arm around his waist and helped him over. He pulled out the pills, careful to hide how many he was actually taking. Marianne handed him his bottle of water that he had brought with him and he took all five pills...an additional five pills. 

Marianne frowned. “Are you going to be alright?” 

Bog nodded. “Yeah...I'll make sure to take them before the dance so I can do the lifts. Okay?” 

Marianne cradled his face. Her eyes were soft, tender as she gazed at him. 

“Okay. Just please, take care of yourself.” 

Bog nodded smiling gently. 

* 

Roland was flirting with a couple of the competition dancers, a couple of young attractive blondes. He was fairly sure he could get them both up to his room when his phone went off. Roland snarled looking at the incoming call then grinned. 

“Hey, I'll talk to you girls later,” he promised with a winning smile. “Gotta take this, you know...star stuff.” 

He flashed them his perfect smile making the girls twitter like a couple of birds. 

As soon as he had walked away from them, Roland put his phone to his ear. 

“You got them?” 

He could hear the grin in Martin's voice. 

“Sure do. Meet me tonight—same place.” 

Roland grinned widely, a nasty gleam in his eyes. 

“Gladly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fentanyl does come in a lollipop form but if you can really turn it into pills from that I'm not sure. But for the sake of teh story I'm going to say you can. :)


	7. Broken

Roland was nearly vibrating with excitement and nervousness the following day. Slipping the pills in with Bog's regular ones ended up being easy. Now it was just time to wait for the results. He hoped he wouldn't have to wait long...he really wanted that interview gig that the show had given Bog, but he told himself even if he didn't get that one, he would be getting all the others. He figured with the way Bog took his pills, overdosing himself or Bog screwing up something because he was high, was only a matter of time...hours maybe if he was lucky. 

* 

The evening of the live performance, Bog was nervous. He was always nervous before a performance, even before the accident, but tonight his nerves were on edge because of Marianne. He wanted the audience to see her as the stunning performer she was, he wanted them to see her the way he did. He envisioned himself dancing beside her, to be the partner she deserved. Part of him was terrified that he would fail her, but even with his nervousness, he was feeling pretty good. Unusually good if he was truthful. He didn't know if that was because of Marianne or the extra pills he had taken half an hour ago, but at this point he was happy to be feeling something other than pain. 

Bog was looking forward to dancing with Marianne in his arms. As he sat in the make-up chair, he was humming softly bouncing his foot in time to the song he was humming while Pare worked on his hair and Lizzie, grinning, applied the eye-liner making his blue eyes pop even more. 

Bog was dressed in a tux similar in style to something Fred Astaire would have worn. Both Pare and Lizzie agreed that Bog looked particularly handsome this evening and it was clear to both Pare and Lizzie that Bog was not just in a good mood, that there was something else going on. Lizzie would glance at her husband, her eyes dancing. They were both happy to see Bog like this. The married couple exchanged smiles each of them pretty confident they knew the reason for Bog's good mood. 

A lovely dancer named Marianne. 

* 

Marianne, in her own make-up chair, was smiling ear to ear while the make-up artist worked on her eyes. Dawn was in the chair next to her wincing a bit as her hairdresser styled her hair. 

“You look amazing tonight Marianne.” 

Marianne grinned at herself in the mirror as the make-up artist stepped back. “You think so?” 

Marianne wore a long, shimmering dress, cut low in the front and back with a high slit on the side showing off her shapely legs. The dress was a shade of deep wine, her make-up complimented the dress, the whole effect made her light brown eyes look exotic—actually all of her looked exotic, Dawn had said just a moment earlier. 

Dawn nodded. “Oh yeah, Bog is going to be slobbering all over himself.” 

Marianne laughed. “I don't think Bog slobbers!” 

Dawn giggled. “Oh, I bet he will though.” 

Marianne grinned glancing at her sister. “Wow, you look fantastic Dawn.” 

Dawn blushed. “You think so?” She was wearing a pair of jeans decorated in rhinestones and a crop-top of baby blue that really brought out her pale blue eyes. The whole outfit really made Dawn's figure noticeable too. 

Marianne nodded. “Sunny will be the one slobbering.” 

Dawn nodded. “Oh, I hope so.” 

The sisters shared a giggle. 

After a few more minutes the hairdressers and make-up people left the sisters alone. Dawn grinned at herself in the mirror then glanced sideways at her sister. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Dawn asked softly. 

Marianne frowned at Dawn's serious tone. “What's up?” 

“How do you know you're in love?” Dawn looked at her sister anxiously. 

Marianne frowned. “I don't know if you want to ask me that question. Remember Roland?” 

Dawn nodded. “Just because he wasn't in love with you, doesn't mean you didn't love him.” 

Marianne shrugged. “True, but now that I've had some distance I don't think I was ever in love with him...maybe more the “illusion” of him...of what I wanted him to be.” 

Dawn nodded. “Do you think you would know now if you were in love?” 

Marianne frowned glancing at herself in the mirror again. That was a very hard question because her developing feelings for Bog were becoming complicated in a short period of time. 

“I don't know Dawn,” she answered softly. 

Dawn sighed. “I think I might be in love.” 

Marianne turned to look at her sister. Dawn was looking down at her hands playing with her fingers nervously. “I know it's only been a short time and only one real date, but 

Marianne...he is all I can think about...” She looked up at her sister pleadingly. 

Marianne reached over taking her sister's hands. “Don't be upset Dawn, Sunny is a great guy.” 

Dawn smiled. “I know! He is wonderful!” 

Marianne chuckled. “Well, I don't know if you are in love with him, but you should keep seeing him to find out.” 

Dawn blushed. “I definitely want to...” 

“Then do it.” Marianne laughed. 

Dawn smiled then asked. “What about Bog...” 

Marianne's whole face turned red. “I—I don't know. I mean...” 

Dawn grinned. “You know...don't say anything...but I'm going to give you the same advice...keep seeing him.” 

Marianne wrinkled her nose at her sister causing them both to laugh. 

* 

Bog was waiting for Marianne, pacing the small space where he was staying out of the way of the other dancers. He felt a little dizzy since he had taken those five pills an hour ago and his heart was beating like crazy, causing his chest to hurt. His palms were sweating too; he shook his hands out trying to calm his nerves. His nervousness was driving him crazy. He was used to getting nervous, but not like this. This was new and completely unwelcome. 

He was becoming agitated when he suddenly saw Marianne. For a moment his breath was simply taken away. She moved through the gathering of other dancers walking toward him. Bog felt time slow down, gazing at her as she moved gracefully through the crowds, her eyes bright, her smile focused only on him. Bog could only stare. When she was close enough she reached out and took his hands. 

“Hi.” Her voice was soft and a little shy. 

Bog flushed, feeling unusually warm, lacing his fingers with hers. “Hi.” 

Marianne glanced behind her to see that no one was paying attention and quickly rose up on her tip toes to steal of kiss. The dizziness that Bog had been feeling all evening increased with the slight pressure of her lips on his...catching the smell of her perfume... 

“How are you feeling?” she asked squeezing his hands. 

Bog smiled. “Nervous.” 

Marianne chuckled softly. “You?” 

Bog shrugged. “I always feel nervous before a performance, but especially now...I want to make sure you look good...and it's been so long since I've danced like this...” 

“You will do fine. You are a beautiful dancer Bog.” Marianne reached up to trace the back of her fingers along his jaw. Bog could have simply melted into her touch. 

Bog smiled down at her reaching to stroke her ear. “You look beautiful Marianne...simply amazing.” 

She blushed glancing down. “Thank you.” 

“Are you nervous?” He reached down retaking her hand. Marianne frowned slightly, noticing that his hand was shaking, just a little. 

“Yes. But I feel confident knowing you're my partner.” She gave him a grin that made him chuckle. 

He was about to say something else when they both heard the announcer call their names. 

Bog squeezed her hand. “Ready?” 

Marianne nodded. “Let's go.” 

* 

Roland was standing backstage watching Bog and Marianne walk out onto the stage. He chewed his bottom lip in frustration wondering if he had slipped enough pills into Bog's bottle. He was hoping for instant results. He hissed in frustration...he would just have to put more replacement pills in Bog's bottle. 

* 

Bog and Marianne walked out, Bog holding her hand out as they did a quick turn around the stage. They stopped in the middle of the stage, the lights went out casting their silhouettes on the screen behind them. The music started to play as Bog turned placing her hand on his shoulder, his other hand on her waist. The hand that settle against her waist gave a squeeze. Marianne smiled up at him. For a moment Bog was mesmerized, but then Marianne's hand against his shoulder gave a squeeze in return and he was brought back to the dance. She smiled up at him, her eyes sparkled. For that moment, Bog felt he could accomplish anything. That was when the lights came back, a spotlight on Bog and 

Marianne that followed the two of them across the dance floor. 

The two of them glided across the stage, Marianne's dress sparkling as it caught the light making her dress look as if she wore a sea of stars. The music started out as a soft slow dance. Bog grinned letting her go into a spin before pulling her back against him and lifting her into the air. He spun her around then set her on her feet...he weaved for a split second as a wave of dizziness hit him. At that moment, the music changed, the tempo picking up becoming the swing music they had practiced to just a few days ago. 

He did his best to ignore the wave of dizziness as he moved along with Marianne. The dance was done almost unconsciously, he swung her back, lifting her up and twisting her around. The added lifts and quick steps gave the dance that added charm that countered with their clothing, as well as showing off not just the expert dance moves of both dancers, but the whole routine highlighted Marianne and her slender, strong figure as well as her incredible skill and grace. 

Bog twisted around, everything lurched for a moment causing him to miss a step. He quickly recovered, but Marianne shot him a concerned look. When he pulled her in close, pressing her body against his as they did a series of quick turns she hissed. 

“Bog, are you alright?” 

He nodded back. “Yes, yes I'm fine.” 

He spun her out, his chest suddenly contracting painfully and he gasped on a breath. He pulled her back, pain shooting from his chest and through his shoulders. 

“Bog?” Marianne's voice sounded far away. 

“I'm fine...I promise,” he hissed back, but he had started to sweat, then shiver. It was becoming harder and harder for him to focus, the dizziness was becoming impossible to ignore. 

He twisted around, holding Marianne out, then pulled her close, grabbing her around to waist for the final lift when he started to see darkness around the edges of his eyes. He stumbled back nearly dropping her, the whole word seemed to wobble. The darkness wavered, slowly converging on him. 

“BOG!” Marianne shouted. 

Bog gasped in pain grabbing his chest. Agony erupted in the middle of his chest, hot sharp pain that paralyzed him. 

“Marianne...” he spoke her name in a whisper just as the darkness consumed him and his knees buckled. 

Marianne gasped as Bog crumbled, his head hitting the floor hard, bouncing for a split second, leaving a bright red splatter of blood behind when he rolled onto his side. The audience gasped. Marianne started screaming. “CALL 911!!” 

Someone rushed onto the stage yelling. “GO TO COMMERCIAL!” 

Dawn came running out onto the stage with Sunny just as Marianne pulled Bog's hands away from his chest, rolling him onto his back without thinking. She pressed her fingers to his neck checking for a pulse. She felt a wave of relief wash over her threatening to make her faint, the pulse was there, but barely, weak. Bog skin felt cold and clammy. 

Marianne whispered to him. “Oh God Bog, don't you dare!” 

Marianne fought the tears, but the tears had started to run down her cheeks regardless. 

* 

Off stage Roland was grinning. Oh hell!! This was perfect!! He watched as everyone was crowding around Bog. He heard the sounds of an ambulance and then within minutes the EMT's were pushing through the backstage to get to Bog. Roland was too far away to hear everything that was being said, but within minutes they had Bog loaded up on a stretcher and were hauling him out. 

Roland caught a glimpse as they rolled Bog past him. The had put an oxygen mask on Bog, but he was still unconscious. Roland smirked. Oh this was so perfect! On live TV!! 

He could not have asked for a better result! Any time now the producers would be approaching him asking him to take Bog's place. Roland giggled. And if Bog ended up being in the hospital for a while that would mean Roland would take his place on everything...and once the drug use came out into the open. Boom! No more Bog King! Roland Knight would take center stage! 

Roland sighed happily. Everything would be going his way. 

* 

Marianne was angrily wiping her tears and smearing her makeup as she did so. Dawn was sitting next to her in the back seat of Sunny's car, her arm around her big sister's shoulders. Sunny drove them to the hospital, his face reflecting his own fear and worry for Bog. 

“I can't believe they wouldn't let me ride with him!” Marianne hissed. 

Dawn squeezed her shoulders. “Marianne you're not family.” 

“I know, but he shouldn't be in there alone,” Marianne whispered. 

Sunny glanced in the rear view. “I swung by Bog's dressing room and grabbed his cellphone. One of you want to call his mother?” 

Sunny handed the phone back. Dawn took it, but it was Marianne who made the call while Sunny drove. 

Marianne took a deep breath and dialed. The phone picked up immediately 

“BOG! OMG Bog, I've been calling! I tried to get through to the studio,o but I kept getting the run around what happened are you okay?” An older woman's voice had answered the phone and immediately started talking with an edge of hysteria. 

“Mrs. King? My name is Marianne Summerfield,” Marianne said softly. 

The older woman paused before she said. “Yes...Bog told me about you.” 

Marianne was thrown for a moment. “He has?” 

“Yes. He has, he likes you a lot. Can you tell me what happened? I saw him collapse while I was watching the show, then it cut to commercial!” Marianne could hear that Bog's mother was on the verge of tears. 

“I...I don't know. They wouldn't let me in the ambulance with him. But he was breathing when they left.” Marianne swallowed trying not to cry. 

“Can you tell me what hospital they are taking him to?” his mother asked trying to keep her voice calm. 

“They're taking him to North Center hospital,” Marianne said softly. 

“I will meet you there. Don't you worry honey, you will get in to see him if I have a say in it.” The older woman's voice sounded calm, which made Marianne start to cry. 

“Thank you Mrs. King.” Marianne choked. 

“Call me Griselda, dear. I'll see you there.” With that the other woman hung up. 

Marianne leaned against her sister. “She's on her way. She said she will get me in to see him.” 

Dawn hugged her sister, glancing at the rear view mirror to see Sunny's eyes. He smiled at her and Dawn smiled back wanting to throw herself into his arms. 

* 

When they arrived at the hospital there were reporters waiting outside who immediately recognized Marianne, her sister and Sunny from the show. Sunny, holding on to Dawn's hand, while Dawn held Marianne's they made their way into the hospital. As soon as they were inside a woman, short, with frizzy red hair piled on her head in a messy bun wearing a pair of jeans along with a huge oversized shirt came rushing up to them. 

“Sunny! Marianne! Dawn!” The older woman rushed up to them. 

The older woman nearly toppled Marianne over as she yanked her into a tight embrace. Marianne squeezed the older woman back. This had to be Bog's mother. How she got there ahead of them, Marianne had no idea, but she was grateful that Bog's mother was there when they arrived. 

“I'm Griselda,” she said as she held Marianne out at arms length. 

“How's Bog doing?” Marianne was proud of herself for keeping her voice steady. 

“They have him in emergency. I haven't been able to get back there to see him yet.” Griselda's eyes were glistening with tears. Marianne wrapped her arms around Griselda whispering. “Bog is strong, he is tough. I know he'll be fine.” 

Griselda hugged her back. “You know Bog called me, told me about this beautiful dancer that he was seeing. He was so happy. He hasn't been that happy in years.” 

That was when Marianne broke down into tears. 

* 

It was another hour before Griselda was finally allowed to see her son. She took Marianne's hand, dragging her with her in such a way that neither the doctors nor the nurses questioned whether Marianne was allowed to see Bog or not. 

Bog was still in emergency, but they were going to be moving him to a room soon, now that they had his vitals steady. As they were escorted into the room, Marianne felt weak in the knees when she saw him. He was pale, looking so thin lying in the bed. He had an oxygen mask over his face, an IV in his arm and he was hooked up to a cardiac monitor. The nurse brought in another chair for Marianne. “The doctor will be here in a moment to talk to you both.” 

Griselda smiled. “Thank you dear.” 

After the nurse left, Marianne reached out and ran her fingers along Bog's forehead, stroking his dark hair back. Griselda was on the other side of the bed. She reached out and took her son's hand. 

A moment later, the doctor came into the room. 

“I'm Dr. St. Clair.” He reached out and shook their hands. 

Griselda smiled softly. “I'm Griselda King, Bog's mother.” 

Marianne shook the doctor's hand not sure what to say, but Griselda jumped in. “This is Marianne Summerfield my son's fiancee.” 

The doctor nodded. “Nice to meet you both. I wanted to talk to you about Bog's condition. He seems to have suffered an overdose.” 

“What?” Both Marianne and Griselda spoke at once. 

“We are not sure yet what he took, but I was hoping one of you might know?” The doctor looked between the two of them. 

Griselda frowned. “He takes prescribed pain medication...” 

The doctor looked down at his chart. “He takes vicodin for an injury to his hip, correct?” 

Griselda nodded. “I think that's what he takes.” 

“We ran some test and while we think he has taken too much vicodin, there was something else in his system.” 

Marianne frowned. “Bog would not take...no, I don't believe it.” 

Griselda nodded. “You don't think it was the vicodin do you?” 

The doctor shook his head. “No, it's something else. Do you have his prescription with you? Either of you?” 

They both shook their heads though Marianne spoke up. “He keeps his pills in his drawer in his dressing room.” 

“Well, if one of you could retrieve his prescription, it might help us in identifying what he took. Labwork can take longer than what it would take for you to get them.” The doctor looked between them again. Marianne nodded. “I can have Sunny run me back to the studio to get them.” 

Griselda came around and hugged her. “That would be great. Thank you sweetie.” 

Marianne smiled excusing herself before rushing to the waiting room where Sunny and her sister were sitting. 

“Sunny, can you run me back to the studio?” 

Sunny stood up looking confused, but nodded. “Sure thing.” 

Dawn pulled her sister into a quick hug. “You want me to come with you or stay here?” 

“Stay here and let me know if there is any change before we get back okay?” Marianne squeezed her sister back. 

“Sure thing Marianne.” Dawn whispered. “Bog is going to be okay.” 

* 

Roland frowned. Everyone was gone now. Most of the press were at the hospital. Roland grumbled to himself, throwing himself down in his dressing room chair drumming his fingers on his knee. No one had asked him any questions about Bog King...nothing. 

He sighed. In time, they would come flocking to him with questions. He grinned picturing himself on the news when suddenly a thought occurred him. 

What if they looked closely at Bog's pills and found the fentanyl mixed with them. Would they think he did it himself? Would Bog be able to convince them otherwise. 

Roland decided he should take the bottle...destroy all the pills...let them keep guessing...it would make Bog look even worse if the pills were missing. Wouldn't it?


	8. Damage Done

Sunny drove faster than he had ever driven before...he drove Marianne back to the studio in record time pulling up right in front of the backstage door. 

“Wait here, I will be right back.” Marianne said as she hopped out of the car. 

Sunny called after her. “Grab some of his things while you're in there, his keys...wallet...stuff like that!” Marianne nodded. “Thanks for reminding me!” 

She pulled the door open rushing in, doing her best not to focus on the sight of Bog, pale and still in that hospital bed...the tubes...the slow bleep bleep of the machines monitoring his heart. 

“This can't be happening,” she muttered to herself as she made her way to Bog's dressing room. “Not...not now...now when...” She felt the burn behind her eyes and in her throat and her heart ached. She knew she was falling in love...he was so different than anyone else she had ever met...the fates just couldn't be that cruel...could they? Marianne squeezed her eyes shut for a moment fighting the urge to collapse to the floor and cry. She pushed those feelings down, concentrating on getting that bottle of pills, on the one thing she could do right now that would save Bog's life. 

* 

The backstage area was nearly deserted when Marianne stepped through the door. Most of the contestants and other miscellaneous workers for the show had headed home. Throughout the studio, a few staff members were still here, some janitors cleaning up...otherwise the place was eerily quiet. Marianne arrived at Bog's dressing room, shoving open the door and rushing in, not noticing that the light was on until she stopped in the doorway. She saw Roland standing in front of Bog's dressing table, the drawer open and Bog's bottle of pills in his hand. 

“What are you doing?!” Marianne nearly screeched. 

Roland blinked in surprise. “Marianne?” 

She put her hand out. “Give me those!” 

Roland looked confused glancing at the bottle of pills in his hand like he hadn't seen them before, then back at Marianne. It was clear by the expression on his face that he was searching for some sort of excuse. “Ah...I was just...you know...I thought...” 

“You thought what?” Marianne narrowed her eyes stepping in; Roland wasn't usually afraid of women...he didn't really think much about them except what he could get from them, but the look on Marianne's face had Roland completely rethinking his attitude. For a moment, Roland thought that maybe he had done something stupid with drugging Bog...that just maybe he had crossed a line. Roland took a step backwards, his eyes darting this way and that as if he were a cornered animal. This was the moment that Roland finally realized, finally thought to himself that maybe he had messed up. Marianne frowned. Something was clearly wrong about Roland's behavior. She took another step into the room. 

“Give me the bottle Roland.” Marianne said quietly, evenly as she held her hand out. Roland panicked, stepped forward and tried to push past Marianne. Marianne reacted without thinking, grabbing Roland by the shoulder with one hand, her knee going up into his groin in a smooth movement and then her fist came up smashing Roland in the teeth. 

Marianne gasped in pain when her fist connected with his mouth and teeth. “SHIT!” 

She immediately cradled her hand against her chest. 

Roland fell backwards with a whimper, falling with his hand between his legs, dropping the pill bottle which rolled under the dressing table. His lips were bloody, his face having done pale. 

“Fucking hell Marianne!!!” 

Marianne hissed, shaking out her fist knowing by the feel of of her hand, she had either broke a knuckle, a finger or it was going to be badly bruised at least. With a glance at Roland who was rolling around on the floor, she dropped to her knees searching around until she found the bottle where it lay under the dressing table. With her left hand she reached under the table to grab the bottle. After getting to her feet, she glared down at Roland. 

“So help me Roland, if you had anything to do with Bog....” She stopped, feeling tears stinging her eyes. She took a breath then turned away, leaving quickly. Roland lay on his side and groaned. 

“I think you loosened my teeth!!” 

* 

When Marianne exited the studio building, she grabbed the car door with her left hand dropping herself into the car. Sunny's eyes widened in shock; she looked even worse than when she had gone inside. Her eyes were bloodshot, she had that look of having been angry crying...Sunny frowned searching her face. 

“Everything okay? You find the pills? Wait—what happened to your hand?” Sunny's hands on the steering wheel tightened when his eyes dropped to her swelling, bloody knuckles. 

Marianne cradled her right hand against her chest. She closed her eyes taking a couple of long shuddering breaths. “I have the pills, let's just go.” 

Sunny frowned, but pulled away, driving back to the hospital. 

* 

Once they reached the hospital Marianne quickly rushed inside. She stopped at the nurse's station. 

“I need to see Dr. St. Clair, could you let him know that I have Bog King's prescription?” 

The nurse nodded. “Yes, just a moment.” The nurse picked up the phone to page Dr. St. Clair. Another nurse at the station frowned noticing the way Marianne was cradling her hand. 

“Ma'am why don't you let me have a look at your hand while you wait for the doctor, okay?” 

Marianne started to protest, but Sunny touched her arm gently. “Let her take a look. I'm going to go find Dawn alright?” 

Marianne nodded reluctantly. The nurse, whose name tag read Sarah, glanced over to her fellow nurse who had paged the doctor. “Let Dr. St. Clair know we will be in room 2-B alright.” 

“Sure thing Sarah.” The other nurse nodded. 

“Thanks Maggie. Come along miss?” Sarah, who had a kind face framed by long, straight brown hair smiled motioning for Marianne to follow her. 

“Marianne, Marianne Summerfield.” Marianne smiled softly in return. 

Sarah smiled. “Mind if I call you Marianne?” 

“Not at all,” Marianne replied softly. 

Sarah led her into a room motioning for Marianne to sit on the bed while she pulled a chair over and gently took Marianne's hand turning it gingerly. 

“How did you do this?” Sarah carefully examined Marianne hand. The knuckles of Marianne's right hand were swollen and just beginning to turn purple. There was a little blood from a couple of small cuts. Marianne sighed. “I hit someone in the mouth.” 

Sarah nodded. “Can you move your fingers?” 

Marianne did, though it was clearly painful. Sarah felt along the knuckle. “Doesn't feel like you broke anything. Okay, I'm going to clean and disinfect the cuts...I'm guessing from teeth?” 

Marianne nodded. “Yeah, from his perfect white teeth.” She nearly snarled the statement evoking a smile from the nurse. 

“I'll put some ice on it and I'll get you some acetaminophen. After forty-eight hours, you can switch to warm wash cloths and heating pads. If it's still swollen or you notice a strange bump or anything else unusual, then you will need to see your doctor. Okay?” 

Marianne nodded while the nurse worked. 

“So, did he deserve it?” Sarah asked as she cleaned the cuts on Marianne's knuckles. 

“What?” Marianne looked confused for a moment. 

“The guy you hit—he deserve it?” Sarah smiled at her. 

Marianne laughed. “Yeah, he did and a lot more.” 

Sarah chuckled. “Good.” 

Both women laughed then. Sarah was about to ask another question when they both heard a light knock on the door just before it opened and Dr. St. Clair stepped in. “Ah Miss Summerfield, you have the pills?” 

“Right here doctor.” Marianne held the bottle out to him. 

“Alright, great. I will get this to the lab right away.” The doctor started to turn away when Marianne asked softly. “How's he doing?” 

The doctor stopped, turning to look at her. “Mr. King is currently stable.” 

Marianne pressed her lips together creating a thin white line. Dr. St. Clair walked back over to her to lay a hand on her shoulder. “He is in critical but stable condition. Getting these pills examined will definitely help with his recovery once he know exactly what he took.” 

Marianne nodded. “Thank you.” 

The physician gave her an encouraging smile before he turned to the nurse. He made no comment about Marianne's hand, but he said to Sarah, “Could you please take Miss Summerfield to see her fiance, he is in the ICU. Her mother-in-law-to-be is waiting for her.” 

Sarah nodded. “Of course doctor.” 

After the doctor left, Sarah smiled at Marianne finishing up with her hand. 

“Okay, just keep the ice on your knuckles and I will take you down to see you fiance.” Sarah stood cleaning up the supplies she had used to tend to Marianne's wounded knuckles. 

“Alright, ready?” The nurse turned to Marianne who nodded. “Thank you.” 

The two women were quiet as they walked toward the ICU. 

Sarah glanced sideways at Marianne and said softly. 

“I saw you on that dance show. I didn't want to say anything at first, but...I really think you could win it.” 

Marianne smiled, though it was slightly sad. “So you've seen Bog King dance?” 

Sarah nodded grinning. “Oh yes. He's magnificent! I was so excited when I heard the two of you were doing a dance this evening. A friend of mine was DVRing it for me tonight...but...I...I'm sorry.” 

Marianne nodded. “I just...I just want him to be alright.” 

Sarah put a hand on Marianne's shoulder, just a light touch. “He's a fighter. I'm sure he's going to fight his way back. He made a lot of progress after his accident...he can beat this too. Besides...didn't know you were engaged to him! He has a lot to live for then.” Sarah gave her a reassuring smile. Marianne blushed, but decided to not correct her. 

* 

When they arrived at the ICU, Marianne was led to a room, much bigger than a regular hospital room with equipment that was monitoring Bog's blood pressure, breathing, pulse. When Marianne saw him again her heart sank. He looked so frail, lying in that bed, hooked up to monitors, multiple IV's, a central venous line was in his neck, an arterial catheter, a feeding line inserted through his nose, and breathing tube down his throat, his thin frame nearly lost in the blankets and tubing on the bed. His mother was sitting beside him holding his hand. She looked up when she saw Marianne. 

“Oh Marianne!” 

Marianne rushed over and wrapped her arms around Griselda, the two of them hugging. Marianne whispered. “I found his pills.” 

“Oh thank goodness!” Griselda looked up at her. “The doctor said that his chances of a full recovery are good. You brought him here quickly and he's healthy...” Griselda choked a little. 

Marianne glanced over at him. “How long will he be like this, did the doctor say at all?” 

Griselda shrugged. “No telling. They've pumped his stomach, and they're giving him some counter meds for the overdose. The doctor said when they know what else to look for they will be able to help him better.” 

The older woman led Marianne over to the bed pulling the other chair in the room over for her to sit on Bog's other side. Marianne sat and gently held his hand. She kissed his fingers and whispered, 

“Come back okay. I...I just...damn it Bog, we have so much to explore together. I want that chance to see what we could have together. I mean, I know it's...” She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against his hand whispering to herself. “Please, please, please...I want to dance with you again....” 

* 

Marianne went back to the room she was sharing with her sister late that evening. If she could have she would have slept in Bog's hospital room, but they had told her that wasn't allowed, not right now at least. Dawn was already waiting for her sister when Marianne stepped in, wrapping her big sister in a warm hug. “You should shower and get to bed. The producers called and have put a delay on filming until next week. So we basically have the rest of this week off.” 

“I'm going back as soon as visiting hours start.” Marianne mumbled. She was so exhausted she felt as if she would collapse at any moment. Dawn physically directed her sister to the bathroom. “I'm going to order some room service.” 

Marianne started to open her mouth to argue, but Dawn held a hand up. “Nope, you need to eat, take care of yourself. Now go shower. Let me take care of you for a little while, okay sis?” 

Dawn gave Marianne a shove to the shower. 

* 

Feeling a little better, Marianne came out wearing a light blue oversize t-shirt that read “I dance what's your super power?” and a pair of blue boxers decorated with little teddy bears. Her hair was sticking up in a variety of directions and bags had appeared under her eyes. Dawn had pulled her sister's bed back and had a sandwich waiting on a plate for her. 

Marianne again tried to protest, but Dawn narrowed her eyes. “If you want to help Bog you have to take care of yourself...no arguing.” 

Marianne chuckled softly. “Thanks Mom.” 

* 

Four days later Marianne was in Bog's room visiting. It was afternoon, a sickly grey cloudy afternoon. Marianne had her head laying against the side of Bog's hospital bed, her hand wrapped around his while she dozed. She had been telling him about her first recital, rubbing his hand against her cheek while she spoke. 

She hadn't really slept well for the last few days, no matter how hard Dawn worked to get her to rest. Her dreams were plagued with the image of Bog collapsing, the vision of him lying on the floor of the stage unmoving, unresponsive. 

While she was visiting, Marianne had insisted that Griselda run home and shower, eat, grab a nap, do something to refresh herself. His mother had gone reluctantly. Now it was just Marianne and Bog. She had sent Bog's mother off for two reasons: one, the older woman needed the rest, and two, so that Marianne could steal a little time alone with Bog. 

* 

She was only partially asleep when she felt a slight movement, his index finger against her palm. At first she didn't register the movement. She felt it, but didn't respond because part of her thought she was dreaming. But then it happened again quickly followed by Bog balling his hand into a fist. 

Marianne sat up straight with wide eyes. “Bog?” 

She gasped when she saw him looking at her. Marianne cried. “Bog!! Oh my god!!” 

He could only stare at her, head tilted to the side slightly, the tube down his throat and the other through his nose made him unable to speak. She reached out and cupped his face between her hands when he started to struggle. 

“Bog...Bog...look at me...relax...you have a breathing tube and a feeding tube in okay? I need to go get the nurse, but you have to stop struggling. Just relax...I'm here.” 

His blue eyes had been panicked when he looked at her at first, but as she spoke Bog slowly calmed down. She smiled stroking the skin of his stubbled cheeks where there wasn't medical tape holding tubes to him. Tears gathered and fell from his eyes, one drop dripping off the bridge of his nose from. 

Marianne choked on her own sob, tears started to flow freely as she smiled. “You came back.” 

* 

A few moments later, as Marianne stood off to the side, having already put a call in to Griselda, Dr. St. Clair arrived to examine his patient. One of the nurses gave Bog a pen and pad when he kept struggling to talk. Marianne couldn't see it, but he apparently wrote down he wanted to go home because the nurse said aloud. 

“Mr. King, you won't be going home for a while, alright.” 

Soon the nurses left and St. Clair looked between Bog and Marianne. “We are going to keep the tubes in for at least another twenty-four hours.” 

Bog made a noise which Marianne was fairly confident was a curse while the doctor continued. 

“If you are still doing well, we will see about removing the breathing tube and the feeding tube the day after that...alright Mr. King? We have to take things slowly Mr. King. You suffered an overdose, we need make sure the drugs are completely out of your stomach and blood stream.” 

A few minutes later, Dr. St. Clair left, leaving Bog and Marianne alone. 

Marianne sat down next to him taking his hand. Bog squeezed her fingers weakly. She smiled at him. “You scared me.” 

Bog wrote on the pad. “I'm sorry. I don't know what happened.” 

“The doctor thought something might be wrong with your pills. I brought them over, he said there was fentanyl mixed with the vicodin.” 

She could tell by the look on Bog's face he had no idea what she was talking about...which meant he hadn't done it on purpose. She picked up his hand and kissed his knuckles. Bog's eyes softened, the way he looked at her made her heart break. She smiled. “I love you.” 

Bog blinked several times, his brow furrowing. He wrote on the pad. “What?” 

Marianne smiled, a light laugh on her lips. “I love you. You don't have to say it back..or write it back. I...I just wanted you to know...this whole thing...scared me. I don't want anything to happen to you and I don't want to be a coward and to have never said it to you.” Marianne shrugged. 

Bog wrote on the pad before pushing it to her. “I love you too.” 

“You don't have to...” Marianne started to say, but Bog held the pad up weakly and shook it. That was when Griselda came rushing into the room. 

“Oh Bog, Marianne told me you were awake! Oh thank God!” Griselda rushed over to his other side picking up his hand and holding it tightly between hers. “Why are all the tubes still in?” Griselda's eyes went to Marianne who quickly explained what the doctor had told her. Griselda nodded, but then her eyes landed on the pad resting on Bog's lap. 

“I love you?” she repeated softly, then looked between Marianne and Bog. “I interrupted something didn't I?” 

Despite his clear discomfort he smiled weakly around the tube in his mouth. 

“No, you didn't, just telling each other how we feel.” Marianne blushed though her eyes never left Bog's. 

* 

The next half hour was spent explaining to Bog what had happened, how he had been unconscious and how long. The overdose of fentanyl...how they found it mixed with his vicodin, how close he had come to dying, and his collapse on stage. He had listened, his pale face turning grey when he realized what had happened. Marianne whispered to him holding his hand. “Don't worry...we'll get through this together.” After that he had fallen asleep, exhausted. Marianne stayed until visiting hours were over. Bog had not awakened again, but the doctor assured her that this time he was just asleep. 

* 

The next morning as Marianne preparing to head to the hospital she received the news that the competition would continue starting Monday and that Roland would be taking over all of Bog King's duties and interviews. They were also going to be bringing in a new dance coach to replace Bog. Marianne read the announcement in her email, her eyes going wide in shock. 

“It's like they don't even care that Bog almost died!!” she gasped as she stared at the email. 

Dawn, who had been in the bathroom came out frowning. “What? What's going on?” 

Marianne motioned at her computer. “They're going on with the competition...and they're replacing Bog with another dance coach starting Monday.” Marianne felt tears stinging her eyes. 

“I just can't believe it...they are giving Roland all of Bog's publicity for the show. He's doing the interviews...all of it.” 

Dawn frowned. “I know it's callous Marianne, but they do have to think of all those dancers who are not personally involved with Bog...” 

“Did I tell you I caught Roland in Bog's dressing room when I came back for the pills?” Marianne turned in her chair to look at her sister who was sitting on the side of one of the beds. 

“No, you didn't. What was he doing?” Dawn frowned deeper, tilting her head slightly. 

“He had Bog's pill bottle in his hand. I...I didn't even think about what he was doing. I hit him...he dropped the bottle...” Marianne frowned in thought. 

“So that's how you hurt your hand. Why didn't you tell me?” Dawn looked upset. “What was he doing with Bog's pills?” 

“I don't know. I was so angry, so upset...I just...” Marianne shook her head. “I'd almost forgotten all about it. I mean Bog denies having put the fentanyl in with his regular pain pills...and I believe him” 

“You don't think Roland would...” Dawn asked in shock. 

“You know...I honestly don't think Roland would try to “kill” Bog or really hurt him. I'm sure he had no idea what those pills could really do...he probably just wanted to embarrass Bog or simply get him out of the way so he could step into his limelight.” Marianne frowned in thought. 

“But...I mean Roland isn't not famous. I mean people know who he is...” Dawn looked confused, but Marianne shook her head. “Yeah, but not like Bog...the producers were wanting Bog to do the interviews for the show...I just have no way of proving any of this...” Marianne sighed in frustration. 

“And it doesn't change the fact that Bog overdosed. If he gets to come back to the show, I'll be surprised.” 

Dawn frowned. “You should tell Bog.” 

“I will...just not sure what he will want to do with the information.” Marianne frowned. “And like I said, I'm just speculating...I have no proof.” 

Marianne stood closing her laptop. “I'll think about it, right now I want him to focus on getting well.” 

Marianne grabbed her purse and gave her sister a kiss on the cheek. 

“I'll see you later.” 

Dawn smiled. “Tell Bog hi for me okay?” 

“I will!” Marianne waved as she set off for the hospital.


	9. Ego As Big As Texas

Bog was asleep when Marianne arrived, carrying an old-fashioned tape player and a bouquet of flowers along with a silly, stuffed teddy bear. He had been moved out of intensive care and taken off the ventilator that morning and was now in a private room. He was still hooked up to what seemed like a million monitors and IV's, but he looked better. Griselda had called Marianne to let her know the doctors had moved him and that he was breathing on his own—a good sign—but they were monitoring him closely with frequent chest x-rays and blood tests. Griselda had said they still had a tube inserted into his stomach, but that hopefully by the time Marianne was able to make it to the hospital, that might be removed too. Griselda said they would be keeping him for a few more days at least, perhaps up to a week. He had to go through a psych-evaluation to make sure that his overdose hadn't been on purpose and he was already scheduled to work with a doctor. 

When Marianne arrived and saw him breathing on his own, the rise and fall of his chest was the happiest sight she had ever beheld. He didn't have a feeding tube either, another good sign. Marianne grinned as she set the flowers and bear down. She placed the tape player on the table beside him and removed a stack of cassette tapes from her purse. She only left the room long enough to see if she could get a vase for the flowers. One of the nurses at the station on this floor gave her a water pitcher to use, which was perfect. 

Marianne put the flowers in water, setting them on the bedside table before she took a seat by Bog's bed. She was happy to sit at his bedside holding his hand while she read a book. He still looked terrible; thin, pale, almost ashen, but he was an 'alive' terrible. Marianne gazed at him and her heart tightened in her chest. He was so pale, his skin almost translucent with dark circles under his eyes that made his face look sunken. He looked so thin under the blankets, the hospital gown hanging on him. Marianne's gaze shifted to the monitors and the IV pumping fluids into his arm slowly. She never would have said she could fall in love again so quickly, not after that disastrous summer with Roland (which the prick still didn't remember), but here she was, holding Bog's hand, her heart belonging to him already. She kissed his knuckles and tenderly laid his hand across his chest. She was distracted from her book for a moment, thinking about what she and Dawn had discussed in regards to Roland and the pills. Marianne knew there had to be a way she could trick him into telling her the truth of why he had Bog's pills. She just knew he was responsible for Bog's overdose...she just knew it. All she had to do was find a way to prove it. 

Then an idea occurred to her. 

She could pretend to be in love with him! Dumping Bog for Roland would stroke Roland's fragile ego and what's worse, he thought so well of himself he would probably buy it, no questions asked. As Marianne thought about her plan, her stomach rolled at the idea of pretending to like Roland, of betraying Bog, even if it was only pretend. Maybe she could get away with it without Bog learning what she was doing...she just had to find a way to get Roland to confess and right now this was the only plan she could think of that would work...maybe. It wasn't as if she had to do anything besides smooth talk Roland anyway...maybe hold the jerk's hand, but nothing else. 

That was when she felt Bog's hand tighten weakly around hers. She turned to him, putting the book down. “Hey,” she said softly. 

Bog's smile was weak and his throat was rough from the ventilator and the tube that had been down his throat earlier that day. “Hey.” 

Marianne, her lips trembling, let go of his hand to wrap her arms around him, and laid her head against his chest. Bog smiled wrapping his arms carefully around her. 

Marianne didn't mean to start crying, but she did. 

“Bog, I was so scared.” 

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, his voice a croak. 

Marianne sat up and wiped her eyes. “ Don't be sorry. You didn't do this Bog.” 

He smiled weakly and whispered. “I ...I don't know Marianne...maybe I did.” He coughed, his throat dry. 

Marianne frowned with concern. “Can you have water?” 

He nodded and Marianne hurried over to where a pitcher of water and a couple of plastic cups sat on a table. She poured less than half a cup and walked over holding it gently to Bog's cracked lips. He sat up as best he could and sipped carefully, only able to handle a few sips before he dropped back against the pillows. 

Marianne smiled, stroking her hand over his face before she set the cup down and wiped her tears away again. “I brought you flowers and a teddy bear.” 

Bog glanced over to the table where she pointed and grinned. “How did you know I was a teddy bear man?” 

Marianne laughed. “Just had an idea you were...” 

Bog smiled reaching for her guiding her to sit on the side of his bed. “How are you doing?” he asked softly. 

Marianne pressed her lips together, tears springing to her eyes again. “I can't believe you are asking about me.” 

Bog smiled weakly. “I worry.” 

She stroked his jaw. “I'm fine. Better now that I know you're doing better.” 

He smiled and nodded slightly. “How is the competition?” 

Marianne made a face. “We start back on Monday. They gave Roland all your interviews and appearances and they are bringing in a new coach.” 

Bog nodded. “Makes sense,” he said softly. 

“Bog...I...I think Roland might have something to do with what happened to you,” Marianne said softly while she took his hands and played tenderly with his fingers. 

“Roland?” Bog asked with clear confusion. 

She nodded. “Yeah. I...when I went back to the studio to get your pills for the doctor...I caught Roland with them in your dressing room.” 

Bog paled even more (if that were possible). “Really?” 

Marianne nodded. 

Bog sighed. “I would say Roland wouldn't do such a thing, but I don't know...I really don't know...” 

Marianne sighed. “Maybe the security cameras...” 

But Bog was shaking his head. “There are cameras backstage, but not in the dressing rooms and only a handful of them work. A dirty little secret...the studio hasn't bothered to send anyone to fix them in...three seasons? But because nothing has happened backstage they haven't really seen the hurry to fix them.” 

Marianne nodded. She almost said something to Bog then, about her plan, but she didn't... 

“I brought this old tape player from the rehearsal rooms and...I made you a mixed tape.” Marianne beamed. 

Bog chuckled. “You did what?” 

“A mixed tape! I want you to know finding a blank cassette tape was a challenge then figuring out how to make you a tape was the next challenge, BUT I never stepped down from a challenge! I found this old pawn shop that actually had unopened blank cassette tapes!” 

Marianne giggled her cheeks turning red. 

Bog reached up and stroked her face. “Thank you Marianne.” 

Marianne blushed glancing down shyly. 

“Have they told you how long you're going to be here?” Marianne asked. 

Bog frowned. “At least a week.” 

“A week?” Marianne's brow furrowed as Bog nodded, confirming what Griselda had hinted at, but he smiled. “It'll be fine. I promise.” 

Marianne leaned forward and kissed him softly. Bog made a soft moan when her lips touched his and leaned toward her. Marianne scooted closer and cupped the sides of his face, turning the kiss from a simple press of her lips to something deeper, her warm lips urging his cooler dry lips apart. The tip of her tongue licked his tongue, eliciting another moan from Bog. He reached out to lay his hands on her hips. Marianne leaned into the kiss, her fingers moving into his hair, kissing him deeper still as Bog wrapped one of his arms around her waist, his hand sliding under her top to feel the warmth of her skin against his cooler hand. She was like a burning sun providing warmth and easing his pain. 

They were so involved in kissing each other that they didn't hear Bog's mother enter the room. 

Griselda stopped herself in the doorway, her eyes widening for a split second when she saw the two of them kissing. She grinned and stepped out backwards letting the door swing closed quietly. 

Marianne finally pulled back, but she kept her forehead resting against Bog's. “You need to get out of here soon.” 

Bog smiled looking into her soft brown eyes. “I will.” 

That was when there was a soft knock at the door. Marianne stood up and walked to the door and opened it to see Griselda standing there all smiles. “Hi!” 

Marianne grinned. “Hey!” She stepped back to allowed his mother into the room. Griselda grinned brightly when she saw her son. “Well, you look better.” 

Bog snorted. “Nah, I only look like death warmed over.” 

Griselda's expression became serious. “Better than the alternative son.” 

Bog nodded. Marianne smiled. “I will let you two visit...” But then Griselda grabbed her hand. “Don't go sweetheart. I'm sure Bog would like to spend more time with you, if you have it.” 

Marianne glanced over at Bog who nodded. “She's right. She's right a lot,” he said in a mock whisper, “but I try not to let her know that.” 

Griselda laughed. “I raised a comedian.” 

Marianne pulled another chair over for Bog's mother and soon they were sitting on either side of him. “So, when can you eat real food again?” Griselda asked. “I was planning on making your favorite...clootie pudding!” 

Bog laughed and then coughed. Marianne quickly grabbed the cup of water for him (which did not go unnoticed by Griselda, how swiftly Marianne was there to help him.) Bog cupped his hand around the hand that held the cup for him, his blue eyes looking up to meet her brown ones. Griselda smiled watching the way the two of them looked at each other which made her giddy; she wondered how long before Bog was asking Marianne to marry him. She smiled, content for the moment. 

* 

They visited with Bog until he became tired, which didn't take long. Marianne was reluctant to leave, but she knew she needed to and she wanted to talk to Griselda in private. 

Bog's eyes were drooping when Marianne leaned in and kissed him tenderly on the lips. “You rest. I'll be back before visiting hours are over for the day.” 

Bog smiled up at her his eyes full of love and tenderness. “I'll be dreaming about you,” he whispered. 

Marianne blushed, leaving him with a gentle stroke of her fingers along his jaw. 

As she and Griselda stepped out of Bog's hospital room Marianne pressed her lips together before she asked. “May I talk to you about something Griselda?” 

“Okay course honey!” The older woman smiled.. 

Marianne nodded. “Thanks. Wanna grab some coffee?” 

“Sure.” Griselda agreed happily. 

* 

They ended up at a coffee shop a block down from the hospital; soon the two women were sitting at a table by the window. Marianne had her hands wrapped around her mug of coffee, the rich calming scent drifting around her face, easing the tension from her shoulders. 

Griselda sipped from her own mug watching Marianne closely. She didn't say anything, letting Marianne take the time she needed to approach whatever topic had her so...on edge. Griselda didn't know Marianne well, but she could sense that something was upsetting the younger woman, something important. 

Marianne took a sip of her coffee before she spoke. “I think Roland Knight had something to do with Bog's overdose.” 

Griselda frowned, her voice steady. “What do you mean?” 

Marianne told her about finding Roland with Bog's pills. Griselda quietly listened to Marianne relate her encounter at the studio. When Marianne finished, she took a breath. 

“I think I might have a plan to get Roland to confess,” she admitted softly. 

“Confess? How?” Griselda asked as she sipped her coffee. 

“I'm going to get him to think I'm in love with him,” Marianne stated, then swiftly brought her coffee up to her lips. 

Griselda's expression conveyed her shock, but then she thought about it. “You're planning on playing into his ego aren't you?” 

Marianne nodded. “I figure if I have a recorder on me and I can get a confession...maybe...I don't know. But...it's worth a try, isn't it?” 

Griselda rolled her coffee cup in her hands. “Maybe, but Marianne—you should tell Bog.” 

“No, no I...I don't want to interfere with his healing and he'll just try to stop me,” Marianne protested. 

Griselda frowned. “True. But Marianne...you need to let Bog in on your plan. If he doesn't know and somehow gets wind of you and Roland. Honey, it would kill him. He is in love with you. That was not a confession Bog would make lightly. That boy gave up on love years ago. He has built a wall around his heart, but you...” The older woman pointed directly at Marianne's chest. “You broke through. If he thinks—even for a moment—that you were lying...” Griselda pressed her lips together, her eyes becoming glassy with tears. “Just...Don't do this without telling him.” 

Marianne swallowed on some tears that stung her eyes. “I love him Griselda.” She looked up to meet the other woman's gaze. “I love him...I just don't want Roland getting away with this...” Marianne took a quick sip of her coffee before she continued. “I just don't want him worrying about me. I want him focused on healing. “ Marianne sighed seeming to deflate. 

Griselda reached across the table and took Marianne's hand. “I think the first thing you need to do dear, is talk to Bog about this plan. I'm not disagreeing with you, it's a decent plan. Roland would fall for it easily because he thinks other people think like him. You were only with Bog 'for the celebrity, it would only be natural for you to switch to him.' And Roland's the type to want to rub anything that he can take from Bog in his face. He'll slip up. He'll want to gloat.” 

Marianne nodded. “That's what I'm counting on.” 

Griselda smiled. “That boy has an ego the size of Texas. You can manipulate him into talking, but just please, tell Bog. If you are going to do this, do it with Bog's blessing and his knowledge. Let him know you love him.” 

Marianne rubbed her hands across the tabletop and nodded. “All right, all right I will.” 

* 

When Bog woke again it was early evening and the nurse had brought in dinner for him, a meal of applesauce, mashed potatoes and cottage cheese, along with some tea and fruit juice. Bog made a face at the tray in front of him “Wow, don't know how I'm going to eat all that.” 

The nurse, an older woman who was probably around Bog's mother's age, chuckled. “Believe me Mr. King. You won't eat all of that.” 

Bog chuckled. “I believe you.” 

The nurse smiled and reached over to pat his hand. “I'll be back for your tray later. Eat as much as you can, but don't over do it.” Just as the nurse stepped out of the room Marianne walked in with a smile on her face. 

“Hey.” She put her hand up with a wave, blushing. 

Bog had just taken a sip of juice and grinned catching a drop with his fingers against his lips. “Marianne!” 

She smiled and took a seat. “Told you I would be back.” 

“You didn't have to, but I'm happy to see you. Very happy.” Bog smiled with a hint of his crooked teeth showing. His smile looked better; it lit his face up. Marianne scooted closer reaching over to take the spoon and scoop up some of the potatoes. With a smirk, she leaned over to feed him. Bog chuckled leaning forward to take the bite. 

“You don't have to feed me,” he mumbled around his bite. 

Marianne grinned. “I know I don't, but I want to. Want you to save your strength.” 

Bog chuckled lightly, but he obediently opened his mouth for the next bite. Marianne frowned cleaning off his spoon and feeding him a bite of applesauce. She quietly scooped up another bite which Bog waved off. She stuck the bite in her mouth as she stared at Bog's tray. Bog watched her quietly. She didn't move or speak, staring when Bog murmured, “You want to tell me what's wrong?” 

“What?” Marianne's head jerked up. “Huh?” 

“I mean, I know the tray of food is interesting, but I didn't think it was that much more interesting than feeding your patient.” Bog smiled. He still looked pale and weak, but his eyes were sparkling and that smile...her heart swelled. She swallowed. “I...I think Roland did this do you right? Well, I think I might have a plan to get him to talk.” Bog frowned and reached out, taking her hand that held the spoon. He gently removed the spoon and laced his fingers with hers. “Tell me.” 

Marianne sighed. “I...I thought that maybe I could make him think I was in love with him. That I hated you because of the drugs...then maybe record him confessing...” “What?” Bog sat up straighter, taking some strength in his worry for her. “Marianne you can't. I mean don't worry about what happened...just...” “Don't tell me to let it go Bog. Don't you dare! He almost killed you! Do you realize that? Do you have any idea what...what that would have...done to me.” She took a deep, steadying breath. “You didn't...you...watching you fall like that, Bog...it...it nearly killed me.” Marianne's words trailed off and she covered her face, tears starting to flow from her eyes in her pain and anger. 

Bog reached out to her, his fingers brushing against her arm. “Marianne...” 

She wiped her eyes angrily before she grabbed his hand again. “I'm not going to let Roland get away with this...I refuse to Bog.” 

Bog stared at her. Marianne could feel the sting of tears again behind her eyes. Bog's voice was soft. “All right Marianne, all right. Just...be careful. Roland is an narcissist, but he is also dangerous. And if you can avoid it, please don't kiss him.” Bog smiled with a slight laugh. Marianne made a face. “Oh believe me, I'll avoid it if I can.” 

Together Bog and Marianne both made gagging noises until Bog started to cough and laugh at the same time. Marianne reached over and held his cup of juice to his lips. He took a few sips, then waved her off. 

Marianne reached over and cradled his face between her hands. “I love you. I love you Bog, with all my heart.” 

“I love you Marianne. I love you, too.” Bog smiled softly. Marianne leaned in and pressed her lips against his mouth. Bog reached up, his hands in her hair. She could feel how weak his grasp was, but the feel of his long dexterous fingers threaded through her hair was heavenly, to know he was still here. Marianne swore once she had trapped Roland, she was not going to miss a moment of time with Bog...she wasn't going to waste a minute. 

Bog tugged her closer and Marianne shoved his table out of the way to crawl onto the bed and straddle him. Bog chuckled, feeling her body; warm, soft, mixed with the hard lean feel of her muscles against him as she laid across him. Marianne chuckled too, snuggling against him. 

Bog wrapped his arms tenderly around her smiling up into her eyes. “You are my dream Marianne.” He spoke softly. 

“And you're mine,” Marianne whispered back. She shifted her position and snuggled up against him, settling into the crook of his arm, laying her head on his chest, her body aligned against his side. Bog smiled wrapping his arm around her shoulders and slowly ran his fingers down her arm as he kissed the top of her head. 

“Will I still get to see you?” Bog asked softly. 

“How long are you going to be here? Still a week?” Marianne asked. 

“A few more days, then I'll be working with a a therapist for however long it takes.” Bog frowned slightly. 

Marianne frowned. “Why the therapist? It wasn't your fault.” Marianne wrapped her arm around his waist. Bog smiled stroking his fingers along her arm. “It's because I'm addicted to my pain pills Marianne...that mixed with what Roland did...I need help Marianne.” Bog was quiet for a moment before he continued. “It...I didn't want to admit it, but it's true. I need help and I want...” 

She frowned looking up at him. Bog looked down letting out a long sigh. “If you don't want to stick around, I understand...” 

Marianne laid her finger against his lips. “Love means being there through thick and thin, the good and the bad. So no, you're not getting rid of me that easily.” 

Bog grinned behind her finger. Marianne smiled. “I will sneak in to see you so that Roland doesn't suspect anything. Though I really doubt that will be an issue. He thinks he has won. Besides, I am certain this won't take a long time.” 

Bog kissed her fingertips and looked at her seriously. “Just promise me you will be careful.” 

Marianne smiled. “I will. You just focus on getting better.” 

Bog grinned. “I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my dearest friend royal-flush-gang


	10. He Loves and She Loves

Marianne came into the studio wearing a pair of black leggings and a black crop top with a criss-cross back and a pair of sneakers, her duffel bag over her shoulder, no make-up, her hair sticking out in its usual punk-like style. She was on her phone with a soft smile on her lips. She had a message from Bog that simply read: I love you. Marianne felt the sting of tears as she quickly texted back: I love you too. 

She was nervous when she came into the studio to practice for the show that afternoon. She was going to make the first steps in getting Roland's confession. She had not one, but several recording devices, her phone, a hidden microphone that she could tape to herself and a good old fashion tape recorder in her duffel bag. She wasn't exactly scared; Roland didn't scare her, but she felt disgusted that she would have to get close to that piece of shit, a piece of shit she wanted to slug across the face! Plus, she was more than a little angry. She was furious. Marianne snarled to herself, no...there had to be a feeling beyond furious...she hated Roland. She had hated him before what he had done to Bog, she had hated him for that summer he had romanced her, made her think she was special, that he was the one and then cheated on her with another woman...and then forgot! He had forgotten all about her! That had hurt, but this...what he had done to Bog. Marianne had just pushed the door open, shifting from the sunshine outside to the darkness of the studio just as a few tears had started to leak from the corner of her eyes. Marianne wiped at her eyes angrily. 

She needed to control her anger and the fact that she was upset. This morning she had heard from Bog's mother that Bog was going to be in the hospital for a few days longer than anticipated. It was only a couple of days, but for some reason that had felt like a punch to the gut. Marianne sniffled covering her face, finding a dark corner and struggled to control her tears. She just wanted Bog back, wanted to dance with him, to see him smile, and to watch the way he moved. She wanted to hold him, kiss him, give them a chance to see if what they had could be something deep, lasting and real. The good news was that Griselda said he had started eating solid food that morning; nothing too big, but it was a start. 

Marianne sniffled again, wiping at her eyes again. That fucker Roland had almost taken that chance away from them because he was a jealous son-of-a-bitch! God, she was just angry about everything. Marianne dug around in her purse until she found a tissue and wiped her eyes. She had to be strong for Bog, had to do this to get Roland to confess...to make that peacock bastard pay. 

After taking a few minutes to get herself back under control, Marianne headed to the dressing rooms. Marianne wasn't paying attention, her thoughts on going to see Bog tonight, thinking about bringing him some food from his favorite place, or maybe getting some scones from a little bakery she had spied on the way to the hospital when she saw Roland waiting for her by her dressing room. He was dressed in pair of too tight Latin dance pants that gave her too much of a view of his junk (and a bit of a camel toe he had going that made her want to laugh and vomit at the same time), paired with a black see-thru dance shirt, opened too far down his chest that it was almost opened to his stomach. Marianne was shocked he wasn't wearing a pair of gold chains. 

* 

Roland had made his way to the dressing room that he knew Marianne Summerfield used. He wasn't exactly interested in her. It wasn't that she wasn't gorgeous, she was, but what he really wanted was to hurt Bog King further, to take more from that pompous jerk. Roland smiled wide, pleased with himself. He had gotten away with slipping him the drugs. Granted, the results hadn't been perfect, but look, Bog was out of the picture, Roland was the show's new “face” and lead dance judge, why not just go ahead and get the girl too? He still couldn't believe he had gotten away with what happened to Bog. When Bog had collapsed Roland had been sure he was in trouble, but instead Roland had risen to the top, once more the Golden Boy! The fact that all the women loved a man who graced the TV screen and had all the interviews...he grinned and leaned against the wall to wait for his final conquest on Bog King, to take the girl. 

* 

“Hey Marianne.” Roland grinned at her with a wink when he saw her approach. 

Marianne stopped in her tracks. She took a breath through her nose, she had her phone in her hand and with the skill of long familiarity with her phone, hit the record button (just in case). 

“Hey Roland, can I help you with something?” Marianne did her best to sound actually interested, which clearly worked because Roland grinned at her, his green eyes twinkling. 

“Hey, I was thinking you and I should do the next dance number together,” Roland purred at her. Marianne felt goosebumps raise on her skin. 

“Oh?” Marianne smiled. 

Roland nodded. “Didn't you hear, the next show is just going to be dance routines, no judging. Just trying to get everyone back out there after that fucking mess that Bog King caused. Man, I knew that Scotsman was a druggy. I mean aren't those Scottish people known for drinking and drugs?” Roland asked, but continued not waiting for a response. He didn't see the look of disgust that quickly passed over Marianne's face. 

“Anyway, I was thinking since you've been saddled with the druggy you haven't had a chance to really dance with a decent partner, so...here I am.” Roland threw his arms out as if he expected Marianne to throw herself into his embrace. It was a monumental effort not to punch him right in his exposed stomach, but she resisted the temptation. Instead 

Marianne smiled and batted her eyes. “Really? You want to dance with me?” 

Roland's smile expanded. He reached up to twist a lock of his yellow hair with a sparkle in his eyes. “Why darling of course, and you play your cards right who knows what else.” Then he winked at her. 

Marianne bit the tip of her tongue before she spoke. “Oh, well thank you Roland. I would love that!” 

“Good, I knew you would. Meet me down at room C.” Roland gave her a wink and a finger gun before he headed off. Marianne dry heaved as she opened the door to the dressing room. 

* 

When she arrived down at the dance room she could hear music playing loudly, the most awful song Marianne had ever heard. She knew the song, a lot of dancers new the song, one of the worst, most irritating songs ever to be recorded, “Bom Bom” by Sam and the Womp. Marianne covered her mouth on a dry heave, then a laugh. Of course Roland would pick the worst song in the world to dance to...she opened the door and stepped inside to see Roland dancing. 

Roland's eyes were glued to the mirror, watching himself. He had his hands on his hips bouncing his hips to the beat of the music before he threw his hands down and began to roll his arms over his head, rolling his entire body to the beat. He kicked his leg out to the side, twisting to switch sides almost pumping or kicking to the beat. Marianne pressed her lips together watching him, dressed like a Latin dancer while doing a sort of hip-hop, cardio dance. It wasn't that he was bad; he wasn't, but she could see where he lacked the soul, the passion that Bog put into his dancing. It was clear that Roland was more aware of how he looked while he moved where Bog just let the music take over and move him. Bog's dancing pulled at her heart while Roland did nothing. To be fair, she had fallen in love with Bog and hated Roland's guts, but she liked to think, putting that aside, that she could see that while Roland's technique was good, there was a lack of passion in his dancing. 

Roland spun around and saw Marianne watching from the doorway. 

“There you are buttercup!” Roland grinned and hurried over to the CD player to click off the music. 

Marianne walked in dropping her duffel bag near the far wall by the door. 

Marianne had to bite her tongue not to lash out at him for calling her buttercup. She set her bag down and slid down to the floor to pull off her tennis shoes. “So, what sort of dance did you have in mind for the show?” 

Roland grinned. “I thought we would do a bachata!” 

Marianne frowned. “Oh.” But she was thinking, “Oh no.” The bachata was a dance from the Dominican Republic with several forms and if Marianne knew Roland, he would be going for the bachata sensual style. 

“What style did you have in mind?” she asked while she slipped on her dance slippers. 

“I thought a sensual bachata would really get the crowd going.” Roland said cheerfully. “The crowd would love to see you with someone as good-looking as me instead of Bog. I mean...uck.” 

Marianne groaned softly. “Fucker,” she thought to herself. She wanted to lash out at him. Bog was in the hospital and here he was taking every chance to make a jab at the man. It hurt her to hear Roland be so callous...such a fucking asshole, but she stuffed her feelings down and told herself when this was over Roland was going to be lucky he if he could a job as a dance instructor in some small town in backwoods Alabama. She took a deep breath. “All right, what did you have in mind.” 

Roland grinned, dropping into a crouch and shifting through a short stack of CDs he had by the CD player. While he was busy, his attention on the discs, Marianne pulled out the mini-recorder that she could tape to her person. She didn't have enough time to tape to herself, but she did have enough time to turn it on and stuff it down the front of her top between her breasts. She did a quick look in the mirror when she stood up. Unless he made a grab for her breasts, the wire couldn't be seen. She took a breath and turned to lean against the wall, watching Roland. 

After a few more seconds, he made his decision and popped a disc into the player. The sounds of a bachata remix of “You're the One That I Want” from Grease started to play. Roland stood up, waggling his eyebrows at her as he swayed his hips from side to side with his right hand pressed to his pelvis. “Ready Marianne?” 

Marianne blinked, watching him in shock. The first thought she had was what on earth had ever made her fall for this asshole? Now that she really thought back on it, he had acted pretty much the same as he was now. Man, she had been blind and stupid. Any lingering feelings of hurt and betrayal over Roland's action that summer vanished as the realization that she had dodged a bullet hit her. She had to suppress a giggle at how ridiculous the man before her was before she took another steadying breath and walked forward, her hand out, a smile on her face. She took Roland's hand, proud of herself for not flinching, and let him yank her in close against him, a leering smile on his face. He pulled her against him, pressing their hips together, his forehead to hers and immediately started to sway, his one hand around her back slinked up her spine. He gave her goosebumps, but while Roland probably thought she was excited Roland was actually making her skin crawl. He grinned at her brushing his nose against her giving her what he thought was clearly his best sexy “come hither” look—or something, Marianne had no idea what he was thinking, only that the supposed “sexy” expression on his face made her want to start laughing. 

“Just follow my lead buttercup and I'll walk you through the dance. The steps might be a little much for you, but I'm sure with my help you'll get it,” Roland purred at her with a smug grin. 

Marianne pressed her lips together thinking to herself, “What a pompous asshole! He does realize I'm here because I know how to dance?” The willpower it took Marianne to resist rolling her eyes was monumental. 

Instead she said. “Okay, show me what to do.” Giving Roland just a hint of a smile, it was the best she could muster up, but it was enough. 

Roland shoved his thigh between her legs, causing Marianne to jump in surprise at the aggressiveness of the move and the fact that he hadn't asked permission almost had her rearing back and slapping his face, but Marianne controlled herself. She let him continue, though if he touched her in any way sexual right now, she just might have to beat the shit out of him. Next Roland took her hand while his left hand, which was around her waist, slid up higher to rest between her shoulder blades. Roland spread his hand wide, pressing his fingers against her, making sure to touch her where the criss-cross of her top revealed skin, while at the same time, grinding his hips against her. Marianne knew how to bachata and what Roland was doing was a poor imitation. He was focusing a little too much on the hips, not enough on the legs or upper body movements. He was clearly all about making a sensual dance into something bordering on nasty. Marianne pressed her lips together, only Roland could find a way to disrespect a beautiful dance. Marianne followed his lead (though she kept her grinding to a minimum and tried to create a space between her body and Roland's.) The man showed that he knew the mechanics of the dance, but he was trying to force a sensuality and passion that just wasn't there between them, no matter how much grinding or twisting, it just wasn't going to happen. 

Even Marianne couldn't fake it that well. Marianne went through the motions, but she just couldn't bring herself to be sensual in any way around Roland. Mechanical yes, follow the steps, do exactly what was expected, yes, but beyond that...no. She felt too cold toward him. But Roland, being so self-absorbed, didn't notice, he just moved and grinned, grinding and swaying his hips against hers, running his hands along her sides, going through the motions of the dance without really understanding that the dance was about love and passion...not lust, and most especially not one sided lust. Hell, Marianne didn't really think Roland wanted her at all...she had just been with Bog, she admired Bog, respected him and had a crush on the man forever. Roland knew that and he just wanted to be the person that Marianne thought about like that. For fuck's sake she thought, the man was like Donald Trump and Obama; it didn't matter what it was, if Bog had touched it, Roland wanted it for himself or to ruin it. 

Marianne took a breath, rolled her hips to the music and thought now would be a good time to start weeding around in Roland's crabgrass garden of a mind to see if she could get anything from him about what he had done to Bog. She smiled faintly and asked, “So, you get to take Bog's place in the show now huh? I mean you're the chief judge, you get to do all the publicity interviews...that sort of thing?” 

Roland laughed. “Yeah, about time too. That old man needed to go. Guess I got lucky he was a drug addict, but yeah—now I'm the big cheese. I have the talent and the looks to really pull off the advertising for the show and who knows after that? Bog was always so weird about the publicity. The man is such a has-been, now it's time for a new younger, better looking man to get out there and be the face of the show.” 

They moved across the dance floor to the music, Roland running his hand down her back stopping at her lower back to press his hand against her. Marianne suppressed a shudder. “I was surprised to learn he was taking pills. I mean, I knew he took them for his leg and hip, but I didn't think he took that many. Guess that was lucky for you, huh?” Roland shrugged. “Maybe he was adding new pills...you know, adding to the mix. You know druggies can...you know...take other pills. Hell, he might have been shooting up...who knows?” 

Marianne couldn't be sure, but Roland sounded nervous; his body had stiffened while they danced. She opened her mouth to say something in response when the door was thrown open and an excited voice called. “Roland!!” 

A young woman stood in the door dressed all in a green dance outfit with a cute boyish hair cut and big green eyes. Marianne recognized her as another one of the contestants, a fairly good dancer, just young and in need of more experience. She seemed like a sweet person. Her face had been alight with excitement when she opened the door, but when she saw Roland with his arms around Marianne, her whole face fell. 

Roland blanched. “Oh hey Carrie!” 

He let go of Marianne looking sheepishly between the two women, the cock caught playing in a different coop. Marianne smiled. “Oh, I see you have another student. Maybe we can meet later or tomorrow?” Marianne turned to Roland. Roland looked surprised and grinned. “Yeah...ah, how about tomorrow, same time? Ten AM?” 

Marianne nodded. “Sure Roland, ten AM tomorrow; we can practice the dance for the show.” 

She only caught the look of anger from Carrie from the corner of her eye. Marianne walked quickly over to her bag and gathered her things, glancing over at Carrie then Roland. 

“I'll just go practice in another room. You two have fun.” Marianne gave them both a smile. 

Marianne kicked her dance shoes off and quickly slipped on her tennis shoes before she hauled her duffel bag over her shoulder and walked toward the door. The young woman gave Marianne a dirty look but Marianne just gave her a smile thinking to herself...poor girl. Marianne thought for a second about finding a way to warn Carrie off Roland, but she knew it wouldn't work...some lessons were best learned for yourself than to have a woman you were angry with try to set you straight. 

* 

The rest of the day was fairly normal. Dance practice followed by lunch. 

Marianne walked briskly down the street to a small cafe where she could see Sunny and Dawn sitting outside enjoying the sun. When Dawn saw her sister she leapt to her feet and waved. “MARIANNE!!” 

Marianne laughed and waved back. “Hey sis!” 

She hurried over and Sunny stood pulling out a chair for her. “Thanks Sunny.” Marianne smiled, taking the seat. 

Dawn grinned. “We haven't ordered yet; we were waiting for you, but I went ahead and ordered you a strawberry lemonade.” Dawn indicated the drink with a nod of her head. 

Marianne sighed with happiness. “You are the best little sister you know that?” 

Marianne picked up the drink and sucked on the straw, the sweet and tart drink hitting her tongue made her sigh with pleasure. 

Dawn leaned her elbows on the table. “So how's Bog doing?” 

Marianne took one more sip before she set her drink down. “He's all right. He was supposed to get out of the hospital in a couple of days, but he pushed himself I guess, texted me this morning and told me he was being kept a few extra days.” Marianne felt the wave of pain wash over her immediately stinging her eyes. 

Dawn reached across the table to grasp Marianne's hand. “It's okay Marianne. He's getting better and that is all that matters.” 

Marianne nodded, then swallowed and wiped her eyes. She glanced up. “Well, I started on Roland. The fuck was waiting for me at my dressing room. I have this feeling I won't have to pursue him. The shit bag will come to me.” 

Dawn blinked at her sister's cursing, but said nothing. Sunny gave a humorless chuckle. “Sounds like him. Bog's out of the picture, so he is going to try and destroy or take everything Bog touched. As much complaining as he's done about everything Bog did when he was here, I'm not really surprised. And if he thinks he got away with something, he will push the line to see how much more he can get away with...and that would include taking you from him. Roland's the type of guy who likes to kick someone when they're down.” Sunny looked disgusted as he picked up his soda and took a sip. 

Dawn was a little pale, then made a face. “Ew. What a jerk.” 

Marianne chuckled. “Yeah, big jerk, a raging narcissist. Since the next episode is just going to be a showcasing of our dancing skills without the judging, Roland wants to partner with me to do a sensual bachata for our dance.” 

Dawn made a disgusted face again with an additional, “Ew.” 

Marianne shrugged. “He's terrible at it. I mean, he has the technique down, but no passion. It's like a robot dancing.” Marianne chuckled as the waitress came over to take their orders. 

After she left, Marianne continued. “Roland was really feeling good about himself though. I don't think getting him to say something incriminating will take long, especially if I lay on the charm—or let him think he's charming me.” She winced. “Might have gotten it over with today if this girl Carrie hadn't shown up.” 

Sunny nodded. “Yeah, Carrie. She is Roland's latest fling, probably going to toss her off to go after you.” 

Marianne sighed. “I thought as much. I feel bad for the girl, but...” She shrugged again. She took a sip of her drink. “Now, no more Roland talk, let's have a nice lunch.” 

Dawn held up her own lemonade to click her glass with Marianne's. “Sounds good sis!” 

Sunny laughed and clicked his glass with theirs. “To good dances and great music!” 

“To good dances and great music!” The sisters repeated with big smiles. 

* 

The rest of lunch had been wonderful. Watching Dawn and Sunny making goo goo eyes at each other had been adorable. They had it bad for each other. Marianne didn't think Dawn would be going back home. She wouldn't be surprised if Sunny didn't ask her to stay...or ask her to marry him. They way the two of them looked at each other, the way they held hands during lunch...the way they had stared at each other...Marianne smiled. It was so sweet to see the two of them falling hard for each other. 

The rest of the afternoon wasn't nearly as nice as lunch. Everyone had a meeting with the judges to discuss the next episode, which was just as Roland had said, a big dance production to show off for the audience what the dancers had to offer and to try and put “the Bog incident” (as the judges and producers were calling it) behind them so that the show could move forward without him. That had angered Marianne. How quickly they had tossed him aside...abandoned him. 

She was on her way out around seven PM to hurry to the hospital and visit with Bog. She had a hoodie in her bag that she planned on using to hide her face when she dashed into the hospital, not that she was expecting someone to be camping out or that Roland would have someone watching for Bog's visitors. Roland was too much of an egoist to think Marianne would be playing him. She had just made it to the doors that led outside, pushing one of them open and started outside when someone grabbed her shoulder. 

“Marianne?” 

She turned to see Aura. The older woman smiled. She may have been a decade or two older than Marianne, but it was difficult to see the age in the woman. “I...I wanted to tell you how sorry I was about Bog and...” She smiled supportively. “Well, when he can come back let him know that he has my support.” 

Marianne stared at her for a moment then glanced around to make sure Roland wasn't anywhere around, she whispered, “I'll let him know.” 

Aura smiled and nodded. “Thank you.” She looked as if she wanted to say more, but she simply turned and went back inside. Marianne frowned, watching the woman disappear into the theater, but then smiled. It was nice to know that Bog had friends here still. 

* 

Marianne arrived at the hospital an hour later, her hood pulled up hiding her face as she took the elevator up to Bog's floor carrying a take out bag from the bakery she had found, the bag full of fresh baked butterscotch scones. She grinned as she stepped off the elevator. The smell was captivating. 

She waved at a couple of nurses at the station who saw her and waved back. Marianne hurried over to them. “Can I have some milk brought to Bog's room? And he can have solid food right? That's what his mother told me.” 

One of the nurses, a young woman named Sally grinned. “Of course you can some milk! And yes, he can have solid food just not a lot. A few bites.” Sally glanced at the other nurse for confirmation. The older woman, whose hair was nearly completely white, nodded her agreement. 

Marianne's smile expanded and she plopped the bag on the counter reaching in and pulling out two scones. “I brought you each one...I mean I was going to give them to you anyway... I'm not bribing you for milk.” 

The two nurses laughed. “Bribe accepted,” said the older nurse, a woman named Martha. “Go on in, he's still awake.” 

Marianne waited for a moment. “Bog texted this morning that he had a setback?” 

Martha nodded. “Yes. He just pushed himself too hard. That man is determined to get out of here. I think it has a great deal to do with a certain brunette with big brown eyes.” 

Marianne blushed smiling. “Is he okay?” 

“Yes, he just needs to learn that rest means rest. He's hooked up to an IV just to make sure he stays hydrated and he is eating solid food now, though sparingly.” 

Marianne nodded. “Thanks!” She hurried off to find Bog's room. Sally grinned. “Wow, I hope I get to be that in love someday.” 

Martha laughed. “Don't we all.” 

* 

Marianne arrived at Bog's room and slowly opened his door. 

When she peeked in, she saw that he was sitting up in bed, glasses perched at the end of his nose with a book in hand. He still looked too pale and far too slim, but when he glanced up to see her watching him, his smile was gorgeous and his blue eyes sparkled over the top of his glasses. He closed the book and set it aside. 

“Marianne.” He said her name in such a way it felt as if he had caressed her face; there was so much joy in the way he said her name that it brought tears to her eyes. Bog smiled happily. “I wasn't expecting you.” 

Marianne smiled and held up her bag. “I brought butterscotch scones.” She shook the bag for emphasis. “Nurses said you can only have a few bites, but I thought still...” 

Bog's smile broadened. “You're perfect, did you know that?” 

Marianne stepped to his bedside and Bog immediately scooted over making room for her on the bed while he took his glasses off. She sat down beside him with a smile. “I didn't know you wore glasses?” 

“Only for reading and only when I'm not going to get caught,” Bog admitted with a chuckle. 

Marianne playfully bumped his shoulder. “Silly,” she said tenderly. 

Bog twisted around and caught her face gently with his long fingers. He stared into her eyes for a long moment before he kissed her. It was a soft, tender kiss with just a hint of tongue and a brush of his teeth, but it was enough to make every part of her feel warm and aroused. 

Bog leaned back with a smile. “So how was your day? I heard that the next show is going just be about dancing without the competition.” 

Marianne nodded. “Yeah...I'm doing a couples dance with Roland.” 

The inflection of her voice gave a clear demonstration of her feelings about this. 

Bog nodded. “What sort of dance?” He didn't need to say it, but Marianne could feel the shift in his body, the tension. Marianne frowned as she pulled out a scone and a napkin. She was about to tell him when one of the nurses knocked and opened the door carrying two of the cafeteria size cartons of milk. 

“Here ya guys go!” Sally smiled as she brought the milk in to set it on the table next to Marianne. “Now remember, not too much okay?” 

Marianne nodded. “I'll watch him.” 

Bog chuckled, but Sally smiled and nodded giving them a wave as she left. 

“So, what kind of dance?” Bog pressed. 

Marianne broke off a bite of the scone and turned to feed the bite to Bog. He took it, opened his mouth to allow her to feed him. Marianne felt her heart speed up a little at the sight of his lips, tongue and teeth...desire for him flaring hot and burning through her. 

She sighed. “He wants to do a sensual bachata.” 

Bog blinked then sighed. “Oh.” 

“He's terrible.” Marianne quickly replied. “I'm not just saying that 'cause I hate his guts, he really is awful. He has the mechanics of the dance down, but there is no feeling. I would rather be dancing with you.” 

Bog smiled faintly. “You don't have to say that Marianne.” 

“I know I don't Bog, it's just the truth.” Marianne picked up one of the cartons of milk, opened it, and handed it to Bog. He took a couple of sips before handing it back to her. 

“He didn't get...handsie did he?” Bog asked quickly. 

Marianne shook her head. “No. I wouldn't let him. I want to get him to confess, but I'm only willing to put up with so much before I'll bitch slap him.” 

Bog chuckled leaning back against his pillow. “I would pay good money to see that.” 

Marianne giggled laying back and leaning her head against his. She reached down between them and took his hand in hers, weaving her fingers with his and squeezing his hand gently. 

“Maybe when you're better you can come down to the studio and I could perform a Marianne bitch slap special on Roland as a congratulatory gift for getting out of the hospital?” 

Bog snorted on a chuckle. 

They were both quiet for a little bit when Bog said softly. “Would you like to dance with me?” 

Marianne frowned glancing sideways at him. “What?” 

“Would you like to dance with me? I have my phone...could play some music...maybe wash away the distaste of dancing with Roland.” Bog smiled with a crook of one eyebrow. 

Marianne frowned with concern. “Bog, you probably shouldn't...” 

“I'll be careful. Take it slow. I would like to dance with you,” Bog said with earnest, his blue eyes pleaded with her. He raised their joined hands up and kissed her knuckles, causing her heart to melt even more while he stared at her, his blue eyes dancing and pleading at the same time. 

She smiled. “Okay, but only for a little bit, then back in bed with you.” 

Bog grinned, he released her hand and reached over to the table beside his bed from where he picked up his phone. He looked through it for a couple of seconds before he found a track he wanted and hit the play button. 

The sounds of David Bowie singing “Wild is the Wind” drifted from the phone. 

Marianne grinned. She slid off of the bed and came over to help Bog stand. He wore a hospital gown and a pair of socks on his feet, his legs looking thin and pale, but still cut with the taut muscles of a dancer. Marianne helped untangle the IV tubes so that he wouldn't tangle them with himself and yank them out. Then as he wrapped his hand around the IV stand, she helped him steady himself. Marianne wrapped an arm around his middle and held him, leading him out to the middle of the room where they would have space to dance. 

“I don't suppose you would mind making sure my ass isn't hanging out?” Bog asked with an embarrassed smile. Marianne giggled walking around behind him to do a quick inspection. She straighten up his gown with a whispered, “You're fine.” Her fingers might have traced over his rear as she came back around or it might have been an accident. Bog jumped slightly his eyes wide at Marianne when she came back around to face him, wrinkling her nose playfully at him. 

Bog smiled down at her. Marianne stepped in close to him, wrapped her arms tenderly around his waist, leaned in, and pressed her body against his gently. Bog cupped her face, his thumb lightly caressed her jaw. He brushed the pad of his thumb along her chin. He held his IV stand with his other hand while the two of them moved in place to the music, swaying from side to side, accompanied by the creak of the metal wheels on Bog's IV stand. Bog's free hand dropped to her throat, his eyes never leaving her face. They moved side to side gently. The music changed to the song “He Loves and She Loves” from the movie Funny Face. Marianne giggled when the song changed. Bog dropped his hand from her face sliding his hand down her arm to take one of her hands. He spun her slowly surprising her when he sang softly to her pulling her back to him where Marianne wrapped her arms around him again. Bog stroked his fingers along her throat and jaw singing softly. 

“He loves and she loves, 

And they love 

So why can't you love 

And I love like too? 

Birds love and bees love 

And whispering trees love, 

And that's what we both should do. 

Oh I always knew someday you'd come along, 

We'll make a twosome that just can't go wrong, 

Hear me he loves and she loves 

And they love so won't you 

Love me as I love you?” 

* 

As they danced together, Bog leaned down to press his cheek to her, wrapped his one free hand around her waist and moved around in a circle, the man's grace clear even while hampered by an IV. He slid his lips along her cheek and pulled back to take her hand and spin her one more time before he brought her back. They moved gracefully around the room, if slowly. Bog leaned her back with his one arm, Marianne eased her arm back just like Audrey Hepburn in the movie. Bog's arm shook a little, but he brought her back up to face him while he whispered softly. 

“Won't you love me, as I love you?” 

Marianne, her eyes glistening with tears smiled. “I love you Bog.” 

He grinned and replied. “I love you.” 

She carefully wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled the tall man down for a kiss that made Bog weak in the knees.


	11. Surprise Date

Bog wrinkled his nose looking at himself in the mirror of the bathroom. The hospital bathroom was tiny, though it contained a toilet, a shower stall, and sink with a small mirror over the sink just big enough for Bog to see his face and shoulders. He moved his jaw around, cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders before he let out a sigh. His mother had brought him some fresh clothes yesterday so he had been able to shower and dress before leaving today--just a few long days after Marianne and he had danced in the hospital room--wearing a pair of dark brown slacks and a white dress shirt, a simple light tan blazer and a pair of his favorite brown oxfords. 

Bog brushed his hand through his hair, though one rebellious curl kept falling across his forehead. He frowned and shoved the curl back, but it stubbornly dropped forward again. He sighed, defeated. 

He rubbed his fingers over his bristly jaw. After over a week in the hospital, he was starting to sport a beard. He chuckled softly as he examined his face in the small mirror; the beard made him look older with the salt and pepper clear in his whiskers. Bog turned his face one way, then the other. He still looked pale and his mother had fussed over how thin he was (which she always did). The hollows of his cheeks seemed darker, the shadows deeper. But he did look better than he had in a long time, he felt. His eyes looked clearer even if he felt weak and the ache in his leg and hip were just bordering on the edge of bearable. He still had a long way to go, but this was the start…He sighed again. He had counseling sessions set up into the foreseeable future as well as a series of doctor appointments to help in managing his pain medication more closely. It was going to be a rough road, but he wanted to be better--he wanted to be worthy of Marianne. For a moment Bog was overcome with emotion. He put his hands against the wall on either side of the mirror and leaned forward. 

God, he wanted so much...he wanted a future with her...wanted...Bog squeezed his eyes shut. 

He sighed pushing himself back and ran a hand through his hair again before turning a little and stepped back out of the bathroom to gather the few things he had before the nurse arrived to wheel him outside. 

He hadn’t seen Marianne in the last couple of days, though he had talked to her through text. She had been busy with rehearsals for the show. He smiled as he sat down on the edge of the hospital bed. The program had been on last night and he had watched Marianne dance. She had been beautiful. Seeing her performing that dance with Roland had made his blood boil, but he had gotten through it and it was her last dance of the night that had been breathtaking. 

Marianne had a solo dance last night as part of the program. She hadn’t mentioned that she would be performing a second dance...Bog smiled just thinking about her performance. She had performed to a song called “Last Love Song” by ZZWard. Watching her move, the strength and passion of her performance...Bog had fallen in love with her all over again. He frowned as he let out yet another sigh. He missed seeing her. 

“There’s my little bug!” 

Bog looked up with lifted brows to see his mother in the doorway. His mother was dressed in wide legged light blue pants, a bright yellow flowy shirt and a large, wide brimmed yellow hat. 

Bog laughed. “Well ,you’re very vibrant today.” 

She stepped into the room and did a little twirl. “What can I say? I’m fabulous!” 

Bog chuckled, stood up and folded his mother into a warm embrace. “Yes you are.” 

She hugged him tightly before looking up at her son. “You all ready to go?” 

“I was ready last week,” Bog said softly. 

She grinned walking over to sit beside him on the hospital bed but in order to get up onto the hospital bed, his mother had to take a little jump and grab a hold of Bog’s arm in order to make it up onto the edge. 

“You talk to Marianne yet today?” Griselda asked while patting her son’s knee. 

“No, not yet. She is probably exhausted after the show last night,” Bog said softly though he couldn’t keep the tone of regret from his voice or the pain from his eyes. 

Griselda patted his knee. “I’m sure you’ll hear from her sometime today.” 

He smiled with a hint of sadness. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” 

A nurse came into the room pushing a wheelchair. “Mr. King? Are you ready?” 

Bog stood up. “More than you know.” 

The young woman had a short auburn bob and a pleasant smile, laughed softly. “Well if you’ll sit right down I’ll wheel you out to the main entrance.” 

Bog smiled and walked over folding himself into the wheelchair. “Not that you haven’t all been very kind, but I am definitely ready to head home.” 

The young nurse laughed. “Don’t worry Mr. King, I hear that a lot.” 

Griselda smiled and hurried past Bog and the nurse to swiftly leave the room, his bag in tow. “I’ll meet you out front with the car honey. See you in a bit!” 

Bog waved. “See you in a bit Mam.” 

The nursed backed Bog up and turned around in the room before heading out and to the elevators. The nurse (‘Shelly’ was written on her name tag, Bog noticed) smiled while she pushed her charge. “Your mom seems really nice and I love her outfit!” 

Bog chuckled. “She’s a hoot.” 

Shelly smiled. “It’s good you have family to help you. You married Mr. King, have a girlfriend...or boyfriend...someone else to be there for you? The more people you have helping you the better.” 

Bog smiled, his cheeks turning rosy. “I actually have a girlfriend.” 

Shelly smiled. “Actually? You seem shocked by the idea Mr. King.” 

He shrugged. “I am. I’m not exactly the loveable type.” 

Shelly laughed. “Well, it seems you’re wrong Mr. King.” 

Bog smiled crookedly. “I guess I am.” 

* 

When they arrived downstairs, Bog’s stomach sank. There weren’t a great many, but there were still several reporters outside waiting for him. Bog did his best not to roll his eyes. He had hoped to leave the hospital without attracting any attention, but that clearly was not going to be the case. By Bog’s quick estimate, here were at least five reporters, not counting camera people. For some celebrities this would have been an illustration that their star was falling, but for Bog it indicated to him that he was still too well known. He glanced around quickly, but his mother still was nowhere in sight. 

“Mr. King! Mr. King? Amelia Woods, local channel KGW9. How are you feeling? Ready to go home?” The young woman who asked was blonde, pretty with a kind face and Bog found the question to be surprisingly non-hostile and genuine. 

“Yes I am. I’ve been treated very well here, but I’m ready to go home.” Bog smiled as a few pictures were taken. 

A young man stepped forward, dark skinned, deep brown eyes. He smiled. “Joe Lawrence with KATU. Big fan Mr. King. Are you planning to return to dancing even though the show let you go?” 

Bog nodded. “Dance is my passion, not the show. So yes, after I’m better, I would like to return to dance in some form...maybe teaching.” 

The young man smiled. “Fabulous idea Mr. King!” Bog was surprised at two out of two reporters being human. 

Another woman, older, maybe his mother’s age, put her mic out toward him. “Lisa Trudard with KOEN. Are you planning on doing any work with say, messages about drug abuse, that sort of thing?” 

Bog frowned in consideration. “I hadn’t really thought about it, but yes I think I might. I’m still going to be on pain medication, but with the help of my doctor and therapist, I am going to be learning how to control my pain and my use of pain medication. We are also going to explore the use of alternatives such as medical marijuana. I can’t walk away from the pain medication, but I can learn to manage it better--responsibly.” 

Lisa Trudard gave him a big smile. “That’s fantastic Mr. King. I wish you luck and I hope everything works out for you.” 

Bog was surprised by her genuine smile, but then when the other reporters repeated much the same thing Bog found himself flabbergasted. He had not expected support from this arena, the press. 

Within a moments, his mother pulled up and hopped out of the car. 

“Okay you guys, let me get my son in the car!” 

The press stepped back and the nurse Shelly pushed Bog forward. Griselda opened the passenger side door and Bog moved from one seat to the other. The reporters waved, wishing Bog good luck as he settled into the car and his mother closed the door. After a second or two she pulled away. 

Bog shook his head and blinked. “That was weird.” 

“Weird?” His mother glanced over at him before she spun the wheel, turning to the left and heading toward the exit. 

“They were genuinely nice. I didn't expect that at all.” Bog said, his voice soft with wonder. 

Griselda smiled softly. “Well it's nice to know that not everyone is like Roland.” 

He smiled. “Yes, yes it is.” 

He sighed and settled back in his seat, leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He hadn’t realized he had dozed off until the the shift in the car’s engine woke him up. He opened his eyes to see that his mother had parked along a curb. 

“Mam? What’re you doing?” Bog sat up. 

She turned with a smile. “I’m catching a cab.” 

Bog frowned in confusion. “What?” 

That was when a pair of arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind and someone planted a kiss on his ear. Bog jumped and turned only to see Marianne smiling radiantly at him. 

“Hey handsome!” 

“Marianne!” Bog gasped as he turned in his seat. 

She giggled. “Just sit still--I’ll be right there.” 

Instead of getting out and walking around, as Griselda stepped out of the car, Marianne climbed over the back seat, flowing into the driver's seat, but not before she grabbed Bog’s face between her hands and kissed him on the mouth. The kiss swiftly evolved from a simple press of the lips into a full, passionate tongue in mouth kiss with Marianne leaning into Bog making soft little noises of pleasure as her tongue danced with Bog’s tongue and her fingers played with the week’s plus worth of facial hair growth on his cheeks. 

Griselda chuckled standing outside the driver’s door. She leaned down looking in and lifted her hat as she did so. 

“All right you two. You have a wonderful day together. I’ll call you later honey.” Griselda waved at them both just as her cab pulled up. 

“Thank you Griselda!” Marianne waved as the older woman slipped into the cab with a wave. 

Bog looked stunned still, but he was smiling broadly, feeling as if his expression must be a bit goofy. He had never been as happy as he was at this moment. 

“I wasn’t expecting to see you,” he said still a little breathless. 

Marianne turned with a smile just for him. She looked stunning in black skinny jeans, a soft, flowing scooped-neck camisole shirt and a short, waist length leather jacket and a pair of brown, heeled booties. Her makeup was done with dark purples and black while her punky short hair made her look young, beautiful...untamed. 

“With the help of Aura, Dawn, Sunny and your mother, we have the whole day together.” Marianne grinned. “So, what do you want to do?” 

Bog frowned and shrugged. “I have no idea. My original plan was stare at the walls.” 

Marianne laughed. “Oh, well I definitely think I can do better than that. How about some coffee first?” 

Bog grinned. “That sounds fantastic.” 

* 

Marianne drove them to a little coffee shop down on Jackson called Cathedral Coffee, a place that his mother had recommended. 

The place was buzzing at this time of the morning, but Marianne found a parking place only a short distance from the shop. 

When they stopped, Marianne leaned over and grabbed her purse from the back. She opened it, pulled out a case for glasses and slipped on a pair of large lensed, black framed glasses. 

Bog frowned. “I didn’t know you wore glasses.” 

She grinned with a wink. “I don’t. I’m being Clark Kent. That way if anyone sees us out, no one will know it’s me from the show.” 

Bog looked at her with a funny expression. 

Marianne grinned. “Hey, it’ll work--I promise. Now let’s go have coffee.” 

She grinned brightly, her brown eyes bright with happiness before hopping out of the car and coming around to help Bog out, surprising him when she popped the trunk and presented him with a cane. Instead of the regular adjustable crook-necked cane, Marianne presented him with a black and silver cane with a fancy Derby handle. 

Bog smiled. “What’s this?” 

Marianne grinned. “Your doctor said you’d probably want the cane to help relieve some of the stress on your hip. So I decided that, hell, if you’re going to have a cane I was going to get you a nice one that made you look even hotter.” 

Bog laughed. “Hotter?” 

Marianne stepped close to him grabbing the labels of his blazer and yanked him down to her. “Hotter, definitely.” She hissed against his mouth, standing on the toes of her feet, her eyes moving from his bright blue eyes to what she thought of as full and perfectly shaped lips, then she kissed him. 

Bog leaned on the cane with one hand while with his other he reached up to cup the back of her head, long fingers threading through her hair, and leaned into the kiss. 

Marianne moaned softly breaking the kiss with reluctance, but then rubbed her nose against Bog’s long nose. She licked her lips slowly while staring at his mouth, then his eyes. “Ready for some coffee?” 

Bog smiled and Marianne thought her heart was going to break because of how gorgeous that smile was. “Yes Marianne, I would like to have some coffee with you.” 

Marianne giggled. “Say my name again.” 

Bog blushed, but he thickened his accent and rolled over the “r” in her name like he was running his tongue up between her breasts. “Marianne.” 

Marianne felt goosebumps erupt all across her skin. She grinned at him, stealing another kiss before she dropped back down to her heels and took his free hand, leading him into the coffee shop. 

* 

The shop was more like walking into someone’s living room who just happened to be selling coffee. There was a counter made of brick with a typical display case of pastries, cash registers and apron clad barista, but the rest of the shop looked like a warm and cozy living room with large armchairs, couches, a variety of wooden tables littered with magazines, and shelves upon shelves of books. 

Marianne led Bog over to a couch and eased him down. She smiled and rested her hands on her hips. 

“So, what would you like? And don’t argue, I’m buying, this is my date.” 

Bog blinked then said softly with a smile. “Yes ma’am.” 

She giggled. “So, what would you like?” 

“How about an Americano?” Bog said settling back, resting the cane on one side of him. 

“One Americano coming up! Anything to eat, muffin, scone…?” she asked. 

Bog smiled. “Surprise me.” 

She grinned and spun, the little spin perfectly executed showing off her dancer’s grace as she stepped over to place their orders. Bog watched her from the couch. She was simply beautiful. There had to be a better word for her, but he couldn’t think of one. She glanced over at him and waved with a bright smile gracing her lips. Bog blushed and smiled back waving. He felt like he was in his twenties again. For a moment that thought brought his happiness up short. Damn it, he shouldn’t be here with her...she deserved someone younger, someone with a whole career and life ahead of him...not...him, Bog King. 

Bog frowned as he reached out to grasp the cane; his fingers slowly rotated the cane between his legs. She deserved someone whole, someone who could dance with her for the entirety of her life. 

Marianne hurried back over and flopped down beside him holding two blueberry muffins on a plate. “I hope blueberry is all right?” 

Bog nodded. “Yes, it's fine.” 

“Hey, what happened to your mood while I was gone?” Marianne set the plate down turning to fully look at him. 

“It's nothing...just thinking,” Bog muttered rolling the cane between his legs, but Marianne caressed his jaw and gently pushed his chin up so he was looking at her. 

“What is it? You can tell me Bog.” 

“It's nothing just...you could do so much…” 

He wasn’t able to finish his sentence before her mouth was against his, her lips pressing down on his. She placed her forehead against his and whispered. “Bog, don’t you ever think that. You are perfect for me. Now, no more of that. We are on a date and I want us to have a good time.” She brushed his nose with hers and gave him a light kiss. “Besides, the only way you’re getting rid of me is if you decide you don’t love me anymore.” 

Bog shook his head, reached up to cup her cheek. “Never Marianne.” 

She smiled gently. “All right then, it's settled.” 

“Number 42!” 

Marianne hopped up. “That’s us...and the meaning of life.” 

She giggled and hurried away to pick up their order. 

* 

They ate their breakfast together with Bog telling her stories from when he first started in dance as a tall, skinny young man in Scotland, getting into fights and beating the daylights out of anyone who teased him, while Marianne told Bog about being a cheerleader in high school until she punched the head cheerleader in the nose for saying something nasty about a friend of Marianne’s...which was one of the reasons she turned to dance later on. 

After breakfast Marianne drove them down to Central Park. 

Marianne parked along the curb; they could see the main lake not too far from where they had parked. 

Marianne looked out the window at it. “You know, I’ve been here for quite a few weeks now, but I still haven’t had a chance to go to the park here,” Marianne said as she rested her hands on the wheel, her glasses sliding to the end of her nose. 

Bog smiled and glanced over in the same direction. “It’s a beautiful park. One of just several in the city, Central Park is just the most well-known.” 

She turned in her seat. “I don’t want you walking too much since you just got out of the hospital today, but I thought we could sit on a bench together until lunch and talk. I do have actual plans for lunch.” 

Bog grinned. “Such as?” 

“Oh it's a surprise!” Marianne laughed, pushing open the door. She hurried over to help Bog out of the car, holding his cane for him, then took his free hand. The two of them walked carefully through the grass to the large lake, with Bog limping only slightly, took an empty seat, and sat close together. 

There were people here and there jogging, walking or just meandering by. Marianne held his hand in her lap, wrapping her free arm around his arm and laid her head against his shoulder. 

Bog let out a calming breath as they sat quietly watching several ducks and a couple of swans drift on the water's surface. A light breeze rippled across the water as the water fowl came closer hoping for bread crumbs, but soon drifted back across the water when they realized that there would be no treats from these two humans. 

Bog pressed his lips together before he spoke. “Have you thought about what you’ll do after the competition? Win or lose?” 

Marianne frowned, watching the birds. “No, not really.” 

Bog glanced down at her head then back at the water. “Would you ever consider staying here?” 

Marianne didn’t move, but she asked quietly. “In the city?” 

“Yes,” he replied softly. 

“I don’t know. I...I guess it depends.” Marianne spoke softly pushing her glasses up. 

Bog swallowed. He knew this was rushing...wasn’t it? But as they had driven to the park the thought had occurred to him...what if she left, flew back home after the show...win or lose...she...would be leaving. After almost losing his life the thought of losing her too...the thought of not having her…He didn’t want to waste time, didn’t want to lose this chance... “Would you consider staying...with me? I mean, you wouldn’t have to live with me. I could get you an apartment of your own and I don’t mean I would keep you; it would just be until you could pay for it yourself if you want. I would never assume, I just thought maybe if you wanted to stay in the city you could stay with me…” He was speaking so quickly, not pausing, knowing that he needed to get all of this out now, in one breath, or he never would...he knew he was rambling...he told himself he was rambling that he needed to stop rambling, but he just kept rambling!! 

Marianne sat up straight and turned to look at him. 

“Bog, are you asking me if I would consider moving in with you?” she asked softly, her brow furrowed. 

Bog swallowed visibly and hard, his adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “I...uh...yes...no? I mean you could stay with me temporarily until we got you a place of your own...or you could just...stay with me...whatever you wanted…” Shit! He thought, he was rambling like an idiot again. He cringed turning away, his cheeks red, but Marianne reached around, her fingers brushing his chin turning his face to look at her. 

“I would love to move in with you,” Marianne said without a hint of doubt in her voice. 

“But...I’m...I’m not recovered. I still have therapy and doctors appointments. I’m still...broken. I should never have asked.” Bog started to pull away from her, but Marianne forced him to turn and look at her again. “I don’t care Bog. I mean, I do care. I want to be there to help you because I love you.” 

“I don’t want to rush you.” Bog said softly. “I don’t want to ruin everything because…” 

Marianne kissed him before she replied, a quick light kiss to stop his talking. Bog pressed his lips together shutting up. Marianne grinned at him before she spoke. 

“Maybe we are rushing, but...who cares?” She grinned. “Never thought I would hear myself say that after Roland.” 

Bog chuckled. “I never thought I would be willing to open myself up to loving someone again.” 

They both looked at each other then laughed. 

Marianne smiled as she gazed into Bog’s eyes. “I would like to move in with you Bog King.” 

Bog blushed. “I would like to have you move in with me.” 

He leaned in and kissed her, the kiss melting into a passionate embrace. 

Marianne leaned back against the park bench as Bog twisted to kiss her, one arm around her shoulders, his other hand resting against her waist. 

Marianne caressed the side of Bog’s throat, her other hand caressing the small hairs at the back of his neck. Marianne moaned softly, raising a leg to wrap around his thigh that was bent toward her. Bog leaned into her more strongly, their lips moving softly over each others mouths, their tongues sliding and twisting together. Bog pulled her more firmly toward him and Marianne shifted closer still. His hand at her waist slipped down, caressing her hip before following the line of her thigh to her knee. 

Marianne opened her mouth wider, spreading her fingers along the back of his neck. 

Bog grabbed her leg, lifting it slightly… 

“You two should get a room.” 

They both stopped kissing abruptly to turn and see an older woman dressed in bell bottomed black slacks, a soft grey t-shirt with a head of white hair cut in a short pixie cut, walking a little white puff of a dog. She was smiling though as she stopped to let her dog sniff the water’s edge. 

“That much passion is going to combust unless you do something about it.” The older woman teased as she waved her fingers at them and winked with a jaunty grin before she continued her walk. 

Marianne blushed. “Wanna move back to the car...maybe the back seat?” 

Bog chuckled. “You know, I never made out in the backseat of a car before.” 

“Never?” Marianne looked shocked. 

Bog shrugged. “Never.” 

“Oh, well, we gotta fix that!” She hopped to her feet grabbing his hand and hauled him to his feet. Bog laughed barely having time to grab his cane before he was being dragged off to the car. 

Marianne pulled open the door and crawled into the back reaching back to pull Bog in after her. They were both laughing as Marianne fell back against the seat, tugging Bog on top of her. He barely got his cane back into the car, tossing it in the front seat before Marianne was grabbing his shirt and pulling him down kissing him hard. Bog felt a twinge in his hip, but he ignored it propping himself up on his elbow leaning to the side, his back against the back seat with Marianne lying on the seat under him. She brought a leg up and carefully wrapped it around his hip. 

Bog traced her jaw then along the side of her neck, his fingers following the scoop of her top, his fingertips just barely caressing her skin as they danced over the tops of her breasts. 

Marianne watched him, her glasses crooked on the end of her nose. Bog grinned and reached down, plucking the glasses off and setting them on the floor of the backseat before he leaned down and softly kissed her. 

Marianne caressed his neck, his shoulders, sliding her hand down his chest. She reached up and without looking, unfastened two of the buttons of his shirt with one hand, then another...then another...until she had halfway unbuttoned his shirt, her hands pushing aside the cloth so she could feel his chest under her hands. Bog made a gentle sound of pleasure, his lips moving over hers in a soft, gentle exploration of her tongue and lips, his long fingered hands stroking her hair back from her forehead, cradling her head in his hands purring softly at the way she was caressing his chest and shoulders. 

She slid her hands up, pushing back his shirt and jacket. She could feel the lean muscles under his skin, the dancer’s body. Her kisses became more desperate; she had been dreaming of this...kissing him...having him...the nights when he was in the hospital her dreams had been plagued not only with worry, but with this...with pure want. She pulled his shirt and jacket down over his shoulder, her mouth moving from his lips, dragging her tongue down his throat to bite his collar. She pressed her hips up to him, wrapping her leg tighter around him. 

Bog winced, hissing softly in pain. 

Marianne immediately stopped. “Bog? Oh gosh, I’m sorry! Did I hurt you?” She quickly touched his face, her brown eyes filled with concern. 

Bog grinned down at her, kissing the palm of her hand. “Don’t be…” 

He was about to say something else when there was a knock at the window. They both turned to look at the window behind Marianne only to see a police officer on a horse leaning to tap on the window. 

“Hey, ah, you can’t do that here, especially in broad daylight.” 

Bog blushed sitting back and pulling his shirt and blazer back into place as Marianne sat up giggling and turing on her side to look up at the officer and yelled to be heard through the glass of the window. 

“Sorry officer!” 

The cop looked a bit uncomfortable, but he smiled and nodded. “Okay, well, have a good day.” 

He lightly signaled his horse and trotted away. Bog and Marianne watched him go. 

Bog blushed as he started to button his shirt, but he did chuckle softly. “I can’t believe we got called out twice like a couple of teenagers.” 

Marianne grinned. “It’s funny.” 

Bog grinned at her his blue eyes twinkling. “You’re a bad influence.” 

She smiled even brighter with raised brows. “You like it.” 

Bog blushed, grinned, and looked down as he finished buttoning his shirt. “I do like it.” 

* 

Marianne frowned, looking out at the street signs as she tried to locate the place she had picked out for lunch. Bog was trying to help but they were in a old section of the city that he had never actually been to before. 

After a few minutes of driving around in circles, Marianne having shoved the glasses up on top of her head, Bog pointed. “There! Right there!” 

She followed the line of his finger and saw the sign hanging on the corner of an old brick building. The sign read: “The Golden Years.” 

Marianne grinned. “Awesome!” 

She pulled around to find a parking place in the back. She was excited about this place; it was a combination restaurant, old time dance hall that supposedly kept a World War II aesthetic. She had spent hours combing through the internet of the city looking for someplace to take Bog for lunch when she found it. The place always had a live 1940’s jazz band, singers and dancing, all day, every day. 

* 

When they walked inside the band was playing “Humming to Myself.” A slim young man dressed like he had stepped right out of 1932 was singing into an old-fashioned silver, large, box shaped microphone. 

The restaurant had a large open hardwood floor space in the middle of the room, lit with a warm orange glow from the lights above. At the far right was the band and singer and all around the edges were tables and chairs where diners were eating lunch, though a few of them were on the dance floor. 

Bog looked around in astonishment. “Where on earth did you find this place?” 

Marianne grinned. “Internet. You should try it.” 

Bog gave her an amused, narrow eyed look. A young woman dressed in a vintage, baby blue waitress outfit, complete with period hairstyle and little hat stepped up to them. She grinned brightly. 

“Table for two?” 

Marianne nodded. “Yep.” 

“Right this way.” The waitress led them around the edges of the dance floor to their table. Bog pulled Marianne’s chair out for her before taking his own, leaning his cane against the wall. He smiled at Marianne. “This place is amazing.” 

Marianne smiled proud of herself. “I thought you might like it when I found it.” 

The singer stepped back and announced with a grin. “And now for a Little Brown Jug.” 

The band started to play the tune as their waitress came back with a couple of menus. She smiled at them both as she set the menus down in front of them. “My name is Jessica and I’ll be your waitress this afternoon. Can I start you out with a drink?” 

Marianne picked up one of the menus. “Mm...can I have a strawberry lemonade?” 

Bog grinned. “Make that two.” 

Jessica nodded while smiling. “I’ll be right back with your drinks!” 

Marianne had just started to gaze down at her menu when she felt movement under the table. It wasn’t a lot of movement, but she could feel the slight vibration against the floor. It only took her a few moments to realize that what she was feeling was Bog, tapping a foot to the rhythm of the music. Marianne smile gently watching Bog. His attention was back on the band and the few dancers who were brave enough to get out onto the dance floor and try to do a spin with the music. 

“So, do you want to try it?” Marianne asked. 

Bog frowned bringing his attention to her. “What?” 

Marianne motioned with her head. “After we order, wanna try dancing?” 

Bog frowned. “I don’t know…” 

Marianne smiled softly. “I meant, maybe we can try some slow dancing...this time without an IV stand.” She reached across the table and took his hand. Bog smiled, rotated his hand around so he could hold her hand, their fingers interlocked. 

“I might be able to handle that...yes.” 

Marianne nodded, her cheeks rosy and returned her attention to the menu. It was only a minute or two later that the waitress returned to take their order with Marianne ordering the grilled chicken salad with grilled cheese and Bog--still eating lightly after his hospitalization--ordered a garden salad with a grilled cheese sandwich as well. 

After placing their order, the waitress left to put in their request as the band started to play Benny Goodman’s “These Foolish Things.” 

Marianne stood and put her hand out. “Would you honor me with a dance?” 

Bog grinned standing up. He left his cane at the table as he took Marianne’s hand and, along with a few other couples here for lunch, they stepped out onto the floor together. 

Bog gathered her close, wrapping one arm around her waist before slowly sliding his hand up to rest between her shoulders, his back just naturally straightening into a dancer’s position. He took her hand in his, staring down at her with a soft, loving smile. Marianne laid her hand on his shoulder, her other hand in his and the two of them started to sway in place with the occasional step turning them around. They turned slowly, taking a few steps. Bog could feel the strain on his hip, the threat of locking up, that slight vibration in his body telling him that it was weak and could give out at any moment...but he didn’t care. Holding Marianne in his arms was the only thing that was important to him. 

Marianne laid her head on his chest while they slowly moved, having completely stopped the steps in favor of swaying together. 

Bog chuckled softly. She could feel the rumble in his chest. “I don’t think this is dancing,” he murmured. “I think we’re just swaying.” 

Marianne smiled and looked up. “I’ll take swaying with you anytime.” They both laughed softly, but she continued. “Don’t worry. You are going to be dancing in no time.” They swayed to the music for a few more beats. Marianne closed her eyes, giving herself over to the sweet scent of him, the feel of his arms around her. This moment was perfect she thought. She felt a slight shift in Bog and looked up at him. 

Bog smiled down at her and whispered. “I read a quote once that said love was a lot like dancing; you simply surrender to the music.” 

Marianne dropped his hand and reached up to wrap her arms around his neck. Bog’s arms just naturally wrapped around her waist, their two bodies fitting together as if they had always been dancing as one. 

“I surrender,” she whispered back to him. Bog’s eyes caressed her face. He whispered back to her. “I surrender too Marianne. I surrender to you.” 

* 

Marianne could tell that Bog was exhausted after lunch. They had danced a couple of more times, both slow dances, but she could feel him weakening. Maybe a dance date on the day he was released from the hospital hadn’t been the best idea, but she had enjoyed their time together immensely. 

Bog dozed until they arrived at his apartment building. 

They rode the elevator up, but unlike her last time here, this time they held hands. She glanced up at him, his sharp profile with his long nose and pointed chin...Bog’s eyes slid sideways when he sensed her staring. 

“Something wrong?” he asked. 

“Last time I was afraid to look at you for too long because I knew I was staring,” she murmured. 

Bog chuckled and blushed. 

The door chimed and the elevator doors slid open. Marianne picked up Bog’s bag from the hospital and they walked out together, making their way down to the end of the hall to Bog’s apartment. 

Bog fumbled with keys, after digging them out of his bag, and opened the door, holding it open for her. Marianne stepped past and Bog limped in behind her. He was exhausted and leaning more heavily on the cane. He flipped the lights on as he came inside and stopped. 

He hadn’t been in his apartment for almost two weeks, yet everything felt...different. 

Marianne had set the bag down near the kitchen and turned. She saw Bog standing near the front door just...staring. 

“Bog? Everything all right?” she asked with concern. 

“You ever noticed how strange your home feels when you’ve been gone a while?” Bog asked, his voice quiet. 

Marianne nodded. “Yeah...we went on a family trip when I was a kid once and I remember when I came back after a week in Disney World...my room felt weird for a few hours...like it wasn’t my place or something.” 

Bog nodded. “Aye...it’s like that but more...so many things have changed in the last few days.” 

Marianne walked over to him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him. 

“Would you like me to stay the night?” 

Bog had wrapped his arms around her waist, looked startled before he said softly. 

“Yes, yes I would.”


	12. A Different Kind of Dance

Marianne grinned and lifted up on the tips of her toes to kiss Bog on the chin. He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. She began to step away from him, but then pivoted and instead she threw herself into another kiss. His lips were so soft and boy, Marianne thought, did he know how to kiss! Slow, sweet, passionate kisses with lots of tongue and just the right amount of teeth. Marianne moaned softly, her hands sliding down his shoulders to his forearms. She didn’t want to stop; she wanted to wrap herself in him...her crush, her boyfriend...a dancer she admired more than anyone. And he was kissing her! She licked his lips before she let him go, though she still remained within the circle of his arms. She ran her hands up and down his forearms as she looked down. 

She stepped back from him, her cheeks bright red. “I’ll...ah...I’ll go get a bag for the night and I’ll be right back.” 

Bog smiled gently stroked her hair, long graceful fingers caressed her locks tenderly. “I’ll miss you every second you’re gone.” 

Marianne turned and started to hurry for the door when she stopped and turned around again pointing a finger at him. “Don’t you dare shower or anything until I get back. Got it? You stay right there and wait for me.” 

Bog blinked, then a grin spread across his lips. “Can I sit down?” 

Marianne narrowed her eyes. “Fine. But nothing else.” 

Bog lifted his cane, touching the handle lightly to his forehead. “Got it doc.” 

Marianne snorted, but gave him a smile. “Good.” 

She slipped out the door only to pop her head back in. “Be right back.” 

Bog blushed and smiled before he blew her a kiss. 

Marianne giggled as she shut the door. 

* 

Marianne ran to the car. And elevator had never run so slowly!! She thought she would never get down to the first floor!! She nearly skidded to a stop by the car, her heart pounding and not just from the run. She was going to stay the night with him...the night with Bog!! Bog King...not her crush anymore, but the man she was in love with...she smirked as she opened the car door. The man she had always been in love with...she had just gotten to know him better and he had been everything she wanted. She sighed as she got into the car, realizing as she did that she was swooning like a high school girl. She frowned, grabbed the rearview mirror and positioned it to glare at herself. Marianne’s brown eyes looked back at herself as she held the mirror and smiled. She just realized that she didn’t care if she was swooning, or looked silly. Her eyes were dancing, her cheeks flushed and there was a smile that tugged at her lips, a smile she couldn’t control. Marianne realized as she looked at herself that she was happy, really, truly, happy, something she hadn’t been in a long time. Roland had hurt her. He had made her feel vulnerable, worthless and unlovable, but Bog...Bog saw her, really saw her as a person, someone worthy of being loved, just like she saw him. He was her friend and something more. He understood her love of dance...and...Marianne felt tears prick her eyes and she giggled at herself. Oh damn, she realized she had it bad for him. 

She let out a breath and started the car. She had told herself in the recent past that she would never love again; she would never let herself fall into that trap, but this...with Bog, they had a lot of work ahead, but she knew this wasn’t a “trap.” This was a gift that she had been lucky enough to be given and she would work her ass off to be worthy of it. 

* 

Bog moved slowly, heading over to the couch. His hip ached deeply, made his steps slower. The cane made a light tap as he walked. Once at the couch and sitting, he kicked off his shoes and laid back with an exhausted sigh as he dropped his cane against the couch beside him. He stayed like that for a few minutes, his eyes closed as he leaned back in the couch, his head resting on the back--smiling stupidly he knew--as he thought about kissing Marianne...her dancing...her arms around him… 

He was so relaxed just thinking about her. He could see her dancing, moving effortlessly like a fairy across the dance floor...her smile, her eyes, the way her nose would wrinkle up or the little purse of her lips when she was upset...Bog was smiling as he drifted off to sleep, the image of Marianne dancing in his head. 

* 

Marianne arrived back at her room, nearly out of breath from taking the stairs instead of the elevator, but she had been so excited with a lot of excess energy; so she had run up the stairs to the room she shared with her sister. 

“I’m back!” Marianne announced as she tossed her purse onto the bed only to find that the place was empty. 

Marianne frowned, glancing around when she noticed the note on her bed. She picked up the paper from the hotel stationery to see that the note was from Dawn. The note read: 

Dear Marianne, 

Spending the night with Sunny!!!! Be back in the morning maybe! Tell Bog HI! for me and I hope you two had a great time. 

Love, 

Dawn 

* 

Marianne had to force herself to push down the urge to get on the phone and call her sister to go over the list of things she should have (which she realized might be why Dawn didn’t just text her)...like protection. Marianne froze for a moment...protection!! She didn’t have any herself! 

“Shit,” she muttered as she tossed the note back on her bed, dropping down to her knees to dig under her bed for her carry-on bag from the airplane and started to shove her nightgown and a change of clothes into it, then walked to the bathroom to grab her toothbrush. She wondered where the hell she could stop to get condoms when she heard a knock at her door. 

Marianne leaned out of the bathroom to stare at the door as if she could discern who was there by glaring at the door. Nope, no x-ray vision. After a few seconds, the knock came again. 

“Oh, the hell…” Marianne muttered as she walked over and opened the door without looking out the tiny peephole that was provided. 

Roland flashed his expensive smile at her as he leaned in her doorway. “Hey Buttercup.” 

Marianne felt her blood turn to ice. “Roland? What are you doing here?” 

Roland had started to step into her room, but Marianne quickly put herself in the doorway to stop him. Her mind was racing as she struggled to quickly come up with a plan. She didn’t want to completely brush him off because she needed to get that confession, but she definitely did not want to spend time with him tonight...or ever...but...not tonight definitely, not now…not when she was going to be spending the night with Bog. Damn it! She thought. 

“I thought I might…” Roland reached out and touched Marianne’s hair. “...come by and take you out to dinner, just the two of us.” He winked at her. “The night is young, who knows what might happen.” He winked again. Marianne had to marvel at the way the man managed to make a wink seem over the top and obnoxious. 

Her first reaction was to immediately snap out and slap his face. How dare he just touch her without permission!! What an ass! But she stopped herself. Instead her mind raced for an excuse not to go out with him that would continue to keep him dangling so she could get her confession. Roland continued to talk while her mind raced. “Or if you sister isn’t in we could hang out here, or we could get a room…” 

Marianne looked up. She noticed the douche didn’t suggest going back to his place which made her wonder why, but she pushed that thought aside and focused on what he had said...her sister. Perfect. 

“I can’t Roland. I was just on my way out to meet my sister…” Marianne cursed under her breath. Unless she got him to go away--and knowing Roland...he wouldn’t go away easily--she would have to leave her bag. “We’re having dinner together and I’m supposed to meet her soon…” 

Roland grinned. “How about I tag along? I bet your sister would be thrilled to have me there too.” 

He went from touching her hair to stroking his fingers up and down her arm. Marianne bit her bottom lip to stop herself from throwing the man over her shoulder and stomping his balls into paste. 

“Roland...I would love to go out with you, I really would, but this is just a sister dinner...you know--just giving us a chance for some girl talk, hanging out...you understand right?” Marianne smiled and leaned close to walk her fingers up his chest before she lightly touched her fingers against lips. Roland grinned like the idiot he was she thought as he kissed her fingers. Marianne was proud of herself and the fact that she didn’t shudder at his touch. Maybe she should consider acting? 

“That’s cool. I understand. You girls gotta have your little talks. Why don’t I walk you downstairs...that way we at least get to spend a little time together,” Roland purred taking her hand in his hand, kissing her knuckles. 

Mentally, Marianne cursed again. God damn it. She glanced once over her shoulder to her half packed overnight bag. She kept her reaction off her face, but internally she sighed. 

“That would be great, just let me grab my purse,” she said quickly, turned. Roland made a move to follow her, but Marianne flung the door back, shutting the door in his face. 

Marianne grabbed her purse and shoved as much as she could into it, her toothbrush, her night gown, a pair of panties and that was it. She groaned in frustration and headed to the door. 

Roland had moved down the hall just a little to examine himself in one of the hallway mirrors. He leaned in close to the glass and inspected his teeth, practiced his smile and winked at himself while he twisted a lock of his blonde hair and let it bounce free with another smile. 

Marianne rolled her eyes hard enough that she was surprised she didn’t give herself a headache before Roland turned and grinned at her when he heard the sound of her door closing. He put his arm out as he turned his smile on her, his perfectly straight, white smile. She was surprised the light didn’t wink off his teeth. 

“Ready Buttercup?” Roland waggled his eyebrows at her. 

Marianne gave Roland a fake smile which the man probably took as genuine because he wouldn’t know a real smile if he saw one she thought...he’d never seen one in the mirror before and she doubted he had ever encountered a true smile. Marianne did her best not to roll her eyes again and linked her arm through his and let him lead her to the elevator. 

Roland began to talk as they walked to the elevator. “Did I tell you Buttercup? I got a photoshoot coming up for Dancing Times magazine! Full-on spread.” He chuckled. “Bog King never had a full photo spread. Of course he didn’t! The man has a face only a mother could love--if she was blind.” Roland chuckled. 

Marianne bit the inside of her cheek, turning her focus from Roland’s speech to put all her energy into NOT breaking his nose. 

They stepped onto the elevator while Roland talked nonstop about himself, clearly not aware that Marianne had yet to respond. Once the doors had close though, Roland turned surprising Marianne as he pressed her up against the wall. He smiled clearly thinking he was being sexy and not a creeper as he whispered. “How about a kiss on the way down.” 

Marianne put her hands on his chest which stopped him from leaning in further. “Roland, you know, good things come to those who wait.” 

Roland grinned. “Sure...you promising something better than a kiss?” 

Marianne smiled up at him. “You’ll just have to be a good boy and wait.” 

Roland frowned for a moment. Marianne could see he was thinking this through; press the point, or wait she wondered... 

She decided to try and help him along by pressing her fingers into his chest and dragged them down to his belt. Roland jumped a bit, his eyebrows nearly reaching for his hairline. 

“Oh…” he said and grinned just as the elevator chimed letting them know they had arrived on the first floor. Marianne maneuvered around him and quickly walked off, only barely avoiding running as she turned and gave Roland a wave followed by a wink over her shoulder. Roland grinned stupidly watching her go, his eyes lingering on her ass when the elevator doors began to close on him. He yelped and tried to make a lunge out of the elevator, but the doors closed on him. 

* 

Marianne sighed with relief to finally get away from him. The man was worse than a cockroach she decided as she hurried around to the back of the hotel so she could work her way back into the parking garage and retrieve the car. She cursed Roland for showing up when he did… 

* 

Bog jerked awake when he hear the buzz at his apartment door. He pushed himself up and grabbed his cane as he moved stiffly and painfully toward the door, thinking to himself that he should get Marianne a key for the apartment. The thought sent a warm, pleasurable wave through him...a key to the apartment for his girlfriend. He grinned, the last shreds of dizziness fading at the thought of Marianne as his girlfriend. Him, Bog King, with a girlfriend...he grinned. 

He opened the door with a smile. 

Marianne waited outside the door, her face lighting up with pleasure at the sight of him. 

“Sorry I took so long!” Marianne wrapped her arms around his neck. Bog wrapped his free arm around her waist, practically lifting her over the threshold. Marianne giggled happily. 

“Don’t worry, I fell asleep as soon as you left.” Bog kissed her forehead. 

He let her go to rub the back of his stiff neck as he muttered, “Fell asleep in an awkward position too.” 

Marianne smiled. “Good. You are going to need a lot of rest, but sorry about your neck. Maybe I can give you a massage?” 

Bog blushed. “Ah, maybe...yeah…” He swallowed with a nervous smile that transformed into a frown as he realized she wasn’t carry a bag. “I thought...did...did you change your mind?” His voice dropped as he tried not to sound disappointed, but Marianne groaned loudly while the two of them walked further into his apartment, Marianne’s quick steps followed by Bog’s limp and the click of the cane. 

“No, I didn’t change my mind--Roland showed up.” She tossed her purse down onto the table by the couch and flopped down folding her arms around her chest. Bog had to resist the urge to chuckle at her, not because he thought she was funny in her distress, but the grumpy expression on her face was adorable. 

Bog growled at the mention of Roland as her words sunk in. “Roland?” 

He laid his cane against the arm of the couch a little more aggressively than he intended. 

“Yeah. He came by the room to ask me out.” Marianne started to stretch her legs out, but Bog gently ran his hand along her knee. “Do you mind if I…” 

He motioned at her foot with his eyes. Marianne blushed and nodded. “That’s fine.” 

He smiled and lifted her leg as he scooted to the end of the couch and took off her shoe. Marianne blushed and reached down to remove her other shoe before she placed them on the other side of the couch along the floor. Bog left his hand on her thigh, but with a questioning look. Marianne smiled and answered his unasked question of permission by laying her hand over his own. 

“I told him I couldn’t because I was meeting Dawn. Who, by the way, is spending the night with Sunny.” Marianne grinned. 

Bog smiled. “They make very cute couple.” Bog leaned back, stretching his bad leg out so his hip was more comfortable. “Sunny had never dated much that I’ve ever noticed, but his expression the moment he saw your sister...love at first sight I think.” He squeezed her leg. “Something I’m a little familiar with.” 

Marianne blushed squeezing his hand in response and nodded. “They are. Anyway, I couldn’t get out of the apartment without him seeing my bag and asking questions...or making assumptions... so I was only able to bring what I could stuff in my purse. I didn't want him to see me leave with my carry-on bag.” She reached over to grab her purse and popped it open to look inside. “Toothbrush, nightgown, panties…that’s it.” 

“I’m sure I can find you something of mine to wear,” Bog said with a gentle smile. 

Marianne smiled softly. “Thank you.” 

She pressed her lips together as the two of them just sat there, and then Marianne asked quietly, as if she were embarrassed, but at the same time compelled to make the request. 

“Would you like to take a shower?” She widened her eyes as if making herself look innocent made the request innocent too. 

A bright flush crept across Bog’s cheeks before he answered softly, as if someone besides Marianne was listening. 

“Yes.” 

Her cheeks reddened brightly to match her boyfriend’s. 

* 

Bog leaned in to turn the water on in the shower; he kept his hand under it until the water turned hot. He took a couple of seconds to adjust the temperature. 

“There, that should be just fine. I took a shower at the hospital, but I still feel a bit...unclean I suppose...or that kind of weird sterile,” he muttered with a half shrug. 

Marianne nodded. “Oh I understand.” 

Marianne’s heart beat swiftly with nervous energy. Bog’s shower was fancy; not just nice, but it reminded her of one of those showers you only see in magazines, with warm honey brown marble, a bench (also made of marble) and three shower heads with a set of clear glass doors surrounding the large shower. 

Bog busied himself by placing his cane against the wall and and sat down on the toilet seat lid as he pulled off his socks then began to unbutton his shirt. Marianne watched him as he pulled the shirt open, revealing the thin, toned muscles. Her mouth watered and her groin tightened with want. 

Marianne pulled her own shirt off, turning her attention away from salivating over Bog. She heard Bog make a soft sound, like he was sucking air in through his teeth just as she tugged her shirt off to toss it. She had just reached around to unhook her bra when Bog stood up. 

“Here, let me. I mean...if you don’t mind?” he asked softly. For a moment his accent grew more pronounced, thicker, as if his desire had loosened his hold on his accent. 

Marianne gazed at him and nodded. “All right,” she replied with a small smile. 

Bog pushed himself up, winced slightly as his hip caught, but he stepped around her. Marianne closed her eyes, biting her bottom lip between her teeth, goosebumps racing across her skin as Bog’s fingertips brushed against her back, sliding around her waist to her back. It was like a dance--even with the hitch in his hip--as Bog moved smoothly around behind her. He stood close, but not so close that he felt like he was hovering; more as if he was waiting to take her hands and lead her into a passionate dance. She took in a breath through her nose as Bog’s fingers caressed her skin, tracing the lines of her shoulders before caressing the blades of her back. His fingers danced down her spine until he came to the bra. He gripped the sides of the cloth and eased the hooks out of the hoops. Marianne felt that moment of relief she always felt when removing her bra, as if her skin could suddenly sing again. 

Bog swallowed as he eased his fingers along her shoulder blades, up to her shoulders where he gently dragged the bra straps down her arms. He was enchanted by Marianne; her voice, her eyes, the way she smiled, the way she danced. He loved every little thing about her from the way she giggled to the way Marianne’s anger flashed in her brown eyes. Bog pressed his lips to her shoulders, traveling the slope that ran between the roundness of her shoulders to the smooth incline of her neck. Her skin was like silk against his lips, so soft, yet he could feel the underlying power of her, the scent of her skin flowing through him. His eyes rolled closed as he gave into his building passion; his teeth gently grabbed her ear lobe. 

Marianne’s skin responded with goosebumps that raced over her flesh. Tt the same time his kiss burned and she could feel it everywhere, pooling in her breasts, burning in her groin. His lips were warm, soft, his tongue hot, tender...and then his teeth pressed into the lobe of her ear and Marianne moaned. 

She said his name softly, like a whispered entreaty, “Bog.” 

Bog leaned down and kissed her bare shoulder again, then moved to kiss her other shoulder as his fingertips slowly caressed down her arms. Her back was graceful, lean and fit muscled, as were her arms, her hips, legs--all of her was power and grace. Bog marveled at her, every inch of her lean, smooth, beautiful. Her neck was slender, and the small hairs at the back of her neck were sexy he thought, alluring. Marianne made him want to drag his tongue over every inch of her, to taste every bit of her on his tongue. He loved the way her spine flowed down, curving at her hip level, and then disappearing behind the cloth of her pants. He wanted to spend all day running his hands over her, traveling the curves and slopes of her body. 

Marianne dropped her arms allowing Bog to slide the bra down with his fingers while his tongue tenderly traced the outside of her ear. She felt the urge to throw him to the floor and have her way with him, but instead, she did nothing. 

Bog didn’t reach around to grab her breasts like she expected and hoped. Instead he eased his thumbs under the band of her pants, sliding against her skin to the button of her pants and started to undo them, pulling the button free, then sliding down the zipper. He didn’t grab her pants and shove them down, however, also what Marianne would have welcomed. Bog’s fingers lingered over the top of her panties, tracing the skin, caressing and teasing along her stomach. 

She could feel the heat of his body behind her, breath tickling her ear, but then suddenly he was gone as he stepped away from her. Marianne felt confused. 

* 

Bog swallowed. His erection ached as he turned his back to her to finish undressing. The urge to touch and take was strong, but he resisted. He didn’t want Marianne thinking he was only after one thing...god he was ridiculous, he thought to himself. 

Marianne turned halfway to watch Bog for a couple of seconds, smiled as he bent over to push his slacks down his legs, before he leaned against the wall, his hips bothering him as he worked his underwear down. She loved the way the muscle in his legs looked, the movement of his muscles...the tight, squeezable ass he had. 

She turned away before she pushed her pants down her legs, stepping out of them and her panties. She could stand there all day watching that man undress she realized. She was so hot right now, her skin on fire; every part of her ached for him, inside and out. 

Marianne made a face (perv she thought to herself), but the urge to squeeze his ass was just so...hmm… 

She walked over to the shower sliding open the door and stepped inside into the nice warm embrace of the water. For a moment the warm water cooled her building passion. She let the water run over her, sliding her hands over her wet hair. She had closed her eyes, but after a second or two, she glanced over at him and smiled and the ache for him raced back. 

* 

Bog stumbled nearly tripping over his pants leg as he watched Marianne step into the shower. The clear, glass shower doors had a frost line that ran across the middle, just wide enough to hide part of Marianne’s figure from him. He watched as she closed her eyes, letting the water run over her. 

Bog moved as quickly as he could out of his clothing without stumbling or falling over himself like a teenage boy. He was finally completely undressed. For a moment he hesitated. He felt ugly, awkward...too exposed...what if she found him revolting? 

Marianne turned and asked over the sounds of the shower. 

“You coming?” She smiled at him, inviting him with that expression. 

Bog nodded, forced himself to remain calm rather than over eager. “Yes.” 

He stepped over and reached for the shower door. He was trapped by the urge to cover himself from her, one hand on the shower door, the other hovering over his erection, but he slid the door aside and stepped into the warmth of the shower. 

Bog’s eyes took in the full sight of Marianne naked, standing under the water. This time he really looked, his eyes traveling down her body, the pert breasts, the slim waist, muscled arms and legs, the tight, petite ass...Bog swallowed. She reminded him of something from a fairy story, the beautiful maiden bathing under a waterfall. She embodied everything that was beautiful in the world--the Form of Beauty, Platonists and Bog would say. 

Marianne turned and reached for him. Bog let her take his hands and tug him under the flow of warm water. She turned around so that Bog was fully under the impact of one of the shower heads. 

Marianne smiled up at him as the water plastered his hair down and ran over his body. She could see the scars he bore from the accident, the thick surgery scar on his hip accompanied by so many other little scars all telling a story of what the man had been through, the trials he had endured to be here now, with her. Her eyes traveled further down, taking in the way his hips narrowed down from his broad chest, the length and thickness of his member...Could a man have a beautiful penis she wondered, because Bog did--he most certainly did she thought with glee. 

He looked so nervous standing under the shower head, his hair wet, water running down his body, his hands hovering over his erection as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them, or it... 

She wrapped her arms around him and tugged him down for a kiss. 

Bog hesitated only for a moment before he put his hands around her waist and pulled her up against him, feeling the combination of softness that was her skin combined with the solid muscles of her dancer’s body. 

Marianne deepened her kiss. His body naked and wet against hers was the most erotic thing she had ever experienced, feeling the heat of his erection pressed between them…. 

As soon as their bodies met, pressed against one another followed by the press of lips, of tongues sliding into each others mouths, Bog’s embarrassment was forgotten. He kissed her harder, his passion building while at the same time he could feel his hip growing weak. He had started to shake a little. He had been up and about too long today he thought briefly...if he could just remain on his feet a little longer... 

Marianne maneuvered him to press him up against the wall. Her hands slid down from his shoulders to his stomach. That was when she felt him shudder and his body slide sideways a bit. 

Marianne pulled back to look him in the eye. “Bog, is your hip giving you trouble?” 

He thought about lying, but it would be more embarrassing to fall in the shower than to simply admit the truth. 

“Yes. I think I’ve been on my feet all I can today...even with the nap.” He frowned and hung his head head, mortified by his own weakness. 

Marianne smiled. “It’s fine. Let’s just shower and then we can get in bed together. Deal?” 

Bog smiled. “Deal.” 

She reached over and grabbed the soap. Bog carefully sat down on the bench, his erection beginning to drop a little. 

Marianne soaped her hands up with the thick creamy soap and surprised Bog when she started to wash his arms. 

“Mari…” He didn’t finish her name before she was shushing him. “Just let me do this Bog.” 

Bog sat still while Marianne worked the soap over him. Her touch was gentle as she worked the soap over him, making sure to find every inch of him until she came to his shaft. He started to put his hand out for the soap, but Marianne’s soapy hands were suddenly between his legs. 

Bog arched back on his hands with a groan that made Marianne sigh with pleasure. She cupped his scrotum and rubbed her hand over him, Touching him was definitely better than simply looking Marianne thought! He was thick, but not massive and long without being frighteningly long...she grinned thinking he was just right. Marianne rubbed her slick hands over him, watching Bog’s reaction, the look of pleasure on his face, his mouth just slightly open, his eyes mostly closed, but she noticed a slit of blue between his lashes. 

She rubbed a little harder, quicker, and Bog’s breathing followed, he was shaking with effort of holding back as well as the weakness of his body as Marianne did her best to bring him closer to climax. She was enthralled by his expression, the feel of him becoming harder in her hand… 

Bog’s hand snapped out and stopped her. His breathing was ragged. “Let’s ah...stop here...I want us both to enjoy…” 

Marianne cut him off. “I am enjoying myself,” she affirmed with a smile. 

Bog blushed. “Ah...why don’t we wait just a little bit longer until…” 

Marianne pouted only slightly as she released him. “Okay.” 

Bog took a deep breath, let it out slowly as he smiled. “You could let me wash your hair though.” 

Marianne smirked. “Yes I could.” 

Bog gave her a smirk in return with a lifted eyebrow before he started to stand up, but Marianne put her hands on his shoulder. “Just stay seated Bog.” 

She picked up the shampoo, handed it to him before she sat down on the floor between his legs with her back to him. She could feel the heat of his erection behind her, his legs on either side. She reached to the side and wrapped her arms under his thighs, resting her hands on his knees. Bog grinned as he reached up with one long arm to adjust a shower head to spray just a little to the side of Marianne. Then he filled his hands with shampoo and started to run his fingers through her hair. 

Marianne closed her eyes with pleasure at the feel of his hands in her hair. 

* 

After the shower Marianne could tell that Bog’s hip was giving him more and more trouble. He was tired, he needed a pain pill, needed to eat again and he simply needed more sleep in a comfortable bed. 

Bog wrapped his towel around his waist; he was growing pale and Marianne saw dark bags under his eyes. He was losing his energy, but damn he still looked sexy as hell she thought with a tiny grin. Marianne wrapped her towel around herself, simply running her fingers through her hair before she took Bog’s hand. “Let’s get you in bed, okay?” 

Bog started to protest, but she was right--bed sounded good. He sighed. So much for a romantic evening. “That sounds great actually.” 

She grinned and led him from the bathroom to his bed. 

* 

The bed had been changed, the sheets clean and fresh. Marianne was fairly certain it was probably his mother who had made sure the apartment was clean, the bed ready for her son. Marianne pulled the sheets and comforter back and shifted the pillows down. She then removed Bog’s slightly damp towel from around his waist. 

“Get in bed and I’ll go get your pills and some milk,” Marianne said with a smile. 

Bog, having just laid back on the pillows nodded. “That sound great.” 

She smiled pulling the sheets over him and hurried out. 

She found Bog’s medication among his things from the hospital. She hadn’t even thought about the fridge being stocked, but as she hurried into the kitchen and opened the door to the fridge she found that someone (probably Griselda) had stocked the fridge with fresh milk, eggs, juice, cheese and several other things. Marianne smiled thinking to herself that Bog’s mother was amazing. 

She poured him a glass of milk and hurried back into the bedroom with the pills and milk. 

Bog had his arm over his eyes and she could tell he was beginning to fall asleep. 

“I have your meds!” she shook the bottle. 

Bog removed his arm from his face with a sleepy yawn. “Thank you.” 

Marianne hopped onto the bed beside him and handed him the milk before she counted out the pills and handed them to him. She tilted her head slightly. “Do you want me to help you keep count?” 

Bog popped them in his mouth followed by a large gulp of milk. Marianne took the glass from him before she hopped up and made her way to the other side of the bed. He watched her as she dropped the towel and crawled into bed beside him. 

“I would prefer that you kept count. I don’t trust myself despite the urine tests I have to take every week now and the random pill counts…” Bog frowned. He felt like he was under arrest and maybe, in a way, he was. Monitored closely, at the least. 

Marianne smiled and cuddled close to him. She lightly stroked his jaw, guiding his face around so she could kiss him once more. “I love you Bog. Don’t worry. We will get through this together. You have me now.” 

Bog brushed his nose against hers. “I love you too and thank you Marianne,” he murmured gently. 

They laid back among the fluffy pillows, continuing to kiss. Bog arms went around her, tugging her closer, his hand caressing her side. 

The kiss, his touch, almost immediately rekindled the flame of her passion. Their kisses accelerated rapidly to something more heated. Their tongues danced, sliding and caressing against each other. They both moaned, the sound muffled by their passionate kissing. Bog’s hand slid up to her breast; at first Bog kept his hand curled around her ribs, his thumb caressed the soft, round underside of her breast, brushing back and forth. The whole thing made her nipples ache for him to touch her. Marianne’s body ached for him to caress her nipples, for him to put his mouth on her...anything! The ache almost hurt she wanted his touch so much. 

Marianne groaned, gently arching her chest willing him to move his hand higher while she dragged her hands down Bog’s chest, moving lower, caressing his stomach, feeling his muscles retract at her touch as her hand slid lower. She felt the course curls of his hair so she began to gently tug, brushing her fingers over the curls, her fingertips just barely caressing the base of his member. 

Bog groaned against her. He was still tired, but her teasing touch made him ache. The thought of her stroking him in the shower made his body tighten, heat building. He needed her, needed her to release him, to bring him to completion. 

Bog’s hand came up over her breast slowly. At first his fingers lightly, teasingly caressed over her nipple. Marianne moaned and her reaction encouraged him touch her again. Bog leaned into her, his kissing moved from her mouth to her neck. He gently pinched her nipple which had Marianne hissing, thrusting her hips at him, arching her back. He smiled, pinching again, holding her nipple to brush his finger tip over the highly sensitive surface. 

Marianne gasped. “Oh Bog…” 

Marianne groaned at the feel of his mouth on her throat, his teeth tasting the tender skin at the same time that his thumb began to roll over her hard nipple, teasing, playing with the sensitive nub. He created a sensual tickle that shot straight down to her groin. She shifted her hips, the ache growing. They both forgot everything else, their attention fully engrossed with each other. 

Bog dipped his head to her breast, his mouth covering the nipple he had been teasing with his thumb only seconds before. Marianne arched and groaned louder. He licked her nipple slowly, his lips pressed to her breast. 

Bog became emboldened. He returned to kissing her mouth, but his hand moved lower, brushing over her stomach, moving lower still until his fingers moved between her legs, seeking out her most sensitive places, following the heat of her sex. 

Marianne groaned again bringing her leg up, careful not to hurt him while at the same time providing him more space to explore her with his fingers. 

Bog groaned when his fingers felt how warm and wet she was, he probed gently until he found the spot that made her entire body jerk in uncontrolled pleasure. He began to rub, slowly at first, paying close attention to her reactions to his touch, listening for the hitches in her breath that told him he was touching her just right. He found her clitoris and began to rub his fingers in slow, firm circles over her. 

He brushed his nose against hers, his lips just hovering over hers as he groaned. “Oh...Marianne…” 

Marianne moaned, thrusting against his touch; hearing her name on his lips excited her even more. 

She shifted her position a little onto her back reaching down with one hand to grab hold of his shaft. 

Bog groaned, jerking at her touch. 

Marianne pressed her teeth into her bottom lip when she wrapped her hand around him. She started to stroke harder, faster in time to Bog’s twirl and stroke of his fingers against her. 

Bog stroked slower, sliding his fingers lower and dipped a finger deep inside her. Marianne gasped, spreading her legs wider while she stroked him up and down, her thumb rolled over the top of his erection which earned her a louder groan from Bog. 

Bog rubbed faster, his breath hot against her lips. Suddenly her eyes rolled back, her body tensed as her orgasm peaked and burst, flooding her with pleasure. She arched her hips and gasped as she climaxed. 

Her hand around him tightened, her strokes picked up speed and pressure with her own orgasm until Bog jerked, a low, tense moan escaping his lips when he came. 

Marianne rolled back toward him, Bog pressed his mouth to hers, the two of them sharing their groans of pleasure while continuing to ride each others orgasm until they were both jerking with aftershocks. 

Marianne very slowly released Bog, her hand, stomach and his stomach slick and sticky. 

Bog slid his hand free from between her legs, but grabbed her hip continuing to kiss her. 

Marianne pulled away from his mouth and rubbed her nose against his. “I should get us something to clean up with.” 

Bog nodded, blinking with a slow, sleepy pleasure. “Yeah...I could…” 

“No, you stay in bed.” She grinned. “Your pill is beginning to work.” She giggled kissing the tip of his nose. He was very quickly losing the battle against sleep now that he was completely relaxed. “I’ll be right back Bog.” She kissed his lips softly before jumping out of bed. She picked up her towel and walked to the bathroom, washing off her hand and stomach with a smile. She got the end of the towel wet and hurried back into the bedroom. 

Bog was lying on his back, one arm behind his head. His eyes were closed. Marianne assumed he had dozed off and began to clean him off. Bog’s eyes fluttered open. 

“Here, let me do that…” He mumbled pushing himself up, but she swatted at his hand. “Just lay still. I’m almost done.” 

Bog chuckled and dropped back down. Before she was finished his breathing had become slow and soft with sleep. She smiled picking up his towel on her way back to the bathroom. She returned, moving quietly and climbed back into bed, snuggling up against his side, careful of his bad hip. 

Bog murmured in his sleep without opening his eyes. “Love you.” 

Marianne smiled as she laid her head against his chest and wrapped her arm around his waist. “I love you too Bog.”


	13. Tap and Waltz

At first, when Bog woke up he was relaxed, happy even as the memory of last night with Marianne drifted through his mind, bringing a smile to his lips. This was followed by the scent of rich coffee, making Bog’s smile grow. Marianne was still here! 

He came more fully awake, but that ended up not being all that great. His hip ached horribly and by the stiffness from the rest of his body, he hadn’t moved at all in his sleep. Bog closed his eyes to take a few minutes to breathe in and out, to try to push past the pain. In the past, he would have reached for his pills, and he was a little bit ashamed to find himself turning to look for them at his bedside. They weren’t there. He smiled, sending Marianne a silent thank you for keeping the pills with her, though he had to take another deep breath to try to stave off his growing tension over having no pills readily available. He had a lot of work ahead of him and he realized with a frown that he would probably always experience this struggle since he couldn’t completely quit the pills and be able to function, but it was nice to know that Marianne had his back--so to speak--and she would help him. For a moment the thought crossed his mind...was that the reason he loved her? Was he fooling himself and simply using her? 

Just as suddenly as waking to smell the coffee and his realization that Marianne was with him, doubt crept into his thoughts like a slow moving rot to destroy his mood. He loved her, but he was now worried that he was using her, and he didn’t want that. What he wanted was to love her without worry, without fear, without doubt… 

Bog covered his face and slowly dragged his hands down with a groan. God, he was an idiot, he thought. Just had to find a way to pick apart his happiness and throw doubt on it. Why couldn’t he just accept it? He pushed himself up to a sitting position, inhaling sharply as his hip reminded him to move slowly. Then the bedroom door opened and all his doubts about loving her vanished the moment he saw her, his questions erased by a swell of emotion. Never had he seen a more beautiful sight! His heart felt as if it had exploded in his chest when he saw her smile. 

Marianne came in carrying a tray, dressed in one of his dress shirts and nothing else. He could see the hints of her nakedness under the shirt when she moved since she only had three buttons holding the shirt together. The sight of her well toned legs, the hint of her hips and groin, the tease of her breasts as the shirt shifted to show a hint of curve all caused his already semi-hard erection to come fully awake. Bog yanked the covers up over himself as Marianne, her hair still sleep rumpled, came over to the bedside with a bright grin. 

“Morning handsome. I made coffee and I hope you like scrambled eggs and toast. You mom is a Godsend!! She stocked your kitchen while you were in the hospital!” Marianne set the tray down on his lap. 

Bog winced just slightly as he took hold of the tray to adjust it on his lap since his body was betraying him at the moment. When Marianne set the tray down--right on the erection he was embarrassingly trying to hide--it took an effort of will to refrain from yelping. Bog shifted the tray with a smile that faltered only slightly. On the tray was a plate filled with fluffy scrambled eggs, toast and what looked like bangers? Marianne had loaded the plate with enough food to feed at least four people. 

Marianne smiled and pulled a pill from the breast pocket of the shirt she wore. “Here ya go, before you eat, so you get the maximum effect.” 

Bog smiled. “Thank you, not just for the breakfast, but for--well, everything.” 

Marianne blushed and smiled at him. “You don’t have to thank me Bog. I love you. I would...I would anything for you.” 

Bog took the pill from her, but he grasped her hand too. “I just want you to know that I appreciate you. Not just because of…” He started to tell her that he wanted her to always know that he would never take her for granted, that he wanted her to always know how much he appreciated her efforts to help him, making breakfast, monitoring his medicine, trying to trap Roland...he appreciated everything, but Marianne simply shut him down with a kiss. 

Bog leaned in to her. He returned her kiss slowly, yet passionately. She reached around to touch the back of his neck, her fingers gently caressed the short hairs there before she slid her fingers along his throat gently while she caressed his neck, but as the kiss continued she scooted onto the bed. 

Bog moved the tray aside. His pain faded slightly to the background as his attention was pulled from it to her. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. Marianne made a soft sound, something that was a cross between a sigh and a moan of pleasure. The simple kiss turned into something far more heated. One of Bog’s hand slipped along her thigh and under the shirt, her skin like silk under his hand as his fingers traveled up to grip her hip while his other hand gathered some of the shirt in his grip. Marianne rose up and carefully straddled Bog’s lap. She used her knee to ease the tray just a little further out of the way as she tried to carefully sit down. Bog winced and Marianne felt the slight jerk in his body, but when she began to pull away he held her in place. 

“It’s fine,” he whispered, his lips brushing hers when he spoke. 

Marianne leaned to the side to pick up the glass of orange juice. “Take your pill, then we can continue this.” She brushed her nose against his, shifting her weight a little. She could feel his erection through the sheets and her body ached to feel him. She licked his chin, shifting in such a way to purposely feel him under her. Bog jerked again with a moan. She sighed and let out her breath. “Pill.” 

Bog smiled, the pill still in his other hand. He popped it into his mouth and took the juice to wash it down. He was about to continue kissing her when Marianne picked up the plate of food, using the fork to pick up some eggs. “Now you eat.” 

Bog laughed. “Fine Doctor Summerfield,” he said with a quirk of one eyebrow. “I’ll eat, but only if you join me.” 

Marianne smiled. “Deal, now open up.” 

Bog grinned and did as he was told, opening his mouth to allow Marianne to feed him. He chewed and swallowed while Marianne also took a bite of eggs. “When do you need to get back? I didn’t think last night to worry about you getting in trouble with the show. I’m sor…” Bog started, but he was cut off by Marianne as she put the end of a sausage in his mouth. He smiled and bit into the banger. 

“Today is one of our free days, which is why I’m betting Dawn and Sunny snuck off together. So I shouldn’t be missed. No rehearsals, no filming. Same as yesterday. I called Dawn to let her know where I was too. Now tomorrow we do have rehearsals, so I won’t be able to stay the night again.” Marianne said the last part with a sigh of sadness. Bog frowned too. He reached up and caressed her hair. 

“When the show is over and you’ve won, you will be here all the time.” Bog gave her a soft kiss. “You are worth the wait Marianne.” 

She blushed while at the same time forcefully putting more eggs into his mouth. 

Bog chuckled as he ate. 

Marianne took a bite of sausage before she handed him his coffee. “I was thinking while I was making breakfast...I know you just got the cane yesterday, but I was thinking...we should try a dance with your cane!” 

Marianne grinned clearly pleased with herself as she fed him another bite of eggs after Bog set his coffee cup down. He chewed in thought. A slight furrow was visible between his eyebrows that Marianne found incredibly attractive, the lines around his mouth, the way he began to worry at his bottom lip as he thought. 

Bog swallowed his eggs. “Fred Astaire did a dance with a cane. I remember watching this movie of his…” Bog continued to frown in thought as he picked up his coffee and took a sip. He suddenly grinned. “Top Hat! The movie was called Top Hat. You know, I think I might actually have it. I remember when I was a kid, I would dance along with Astaire while watching the movie--or any of his movies, really.” 

Marianne grinned and thought to herself how much she would love to see that. “Wanna take a look after breakfast?” 

Bog wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. “I would like that very much.” 

* 

The two of them were sitting on the couch in Bog’s living room while the movie played in black and white on the large television. Bog was dressed in a pair of blue and white plaid cotton boxers and a white athletic cut t-shirt that showed off his broad shoulders and narrow waist. He was barefoot, his legs out in front of him crossed at the ankle. His cane leaned against the arm of the couch. Marianne sat curled against his side with her head resting on his chest. She still had on the dress shirt from before, but now she also had on a pair of Bog’s boxers, a pair of black and white plaid shorts. (With his narrow waist and hips, the boxers were just a smidge snug on her, but by the playful growl and the look of lust in Bog’s eyes when she spun around for him, Marianne figured they must fit pretty darn well). 

Bog grabbed the remote and paused the movie. “This is the part.” 

Bog stood up. Marianne squealed with excitement and pushed the coffee table out of the way and then the throw rug to make room for Bog. He grinned at her as he turned his back to the television and began to sing along. Marianne grinned. Not only could the man dance, he had the most amazing singing voice!! 

Bog perfectly mimicked Fred Astaire’s movements as he sang. 

“I just got an invitation through the mails 

"Your presence requested this evening 

It's formal, a top hat, a white tie and tails 

Nothing now could take the wind out of my sails 

Because I'm invited to step out this evening 

With top hat and white tie and tails…” 

Bog pretended as if he was wearing a top hat as he took a few steps to the side. 

“I'm puttin' on my top hat 

Tyin' up my white tie 

Brushin' off my tails 

I'm dudin' up my shirt front 

Puttin' in the shirt studs 

Polishin' my nails…” 

Bog began to dance, mimicking the tap dance of Fred Astaire perfectly. Marianne watched him in awe though she could see him pulling back on the more energetic movements of the famous dancer, his hip not allowing him to do the more complicated steps. He put the cane down, tapping it against the floor to the beat of the music and the movie, while he moved his right foot back and forth. She could only imagine how cool it would sound with tap shoes as he moved or how delicious Bog would look in a top hat and tails because just him tap dancing in his underwear and barefoot was enough to make her blood boil and her lady bits fire up in anticipation. 

Bog knew the dance he was currently engaging in wasn’t what Marianne had in mind with the cane, but the pill was working; the pain was still there but manageable, at a level where he could still control it, bear it, and damn it, he loved to dance so much that while he knew he was going to pay for this later, it was fun. No, it was more than that. Dance had been the thing that had saved him, when he had been in a dark place, dance had always set him free. 

Bog did a little quick step along with Astaire, with a kick to the side against the cane where he twisted it around easily with his hand in a circle, followed by Bog “tapping” along with Astaire for several more steps with Bog dancing from one end of the room to the other. 

Marianne brought her legs up, her bare feet balanced on the edge of the couch and wrapped her arms around her legs while resting her chin on her knees as she watched Bog dance. She pressed her teeth into her bottom lip watching him with wide eyes, her crush on Bog the dancer, the man she had admired from afar, the man who had inspired her to pursue dance. Those feelings were now mixed with her love of the man, the person...Marianne’s cheeks turned rosy, the man she had showered with last night, the man she had shared an intimate night with… 

Bog performed a perfect spin on his heels despite being barefoot. Marianne clapped while Bog did a slow slide with his legs, first one side, then the next, using the cane to accentuate the long movement of his equally long legs. He flipped the cane under his arm, crossed his legs and slowly spun around. 

Marianne put her fingers between her lips and whistled. 

Bog did a couple of sideways slides, and another spin with the cane under his arm. He kicked his leg to the side dropped into a semi-crouch, his arms out before he slowly eased back up, his legs almost seemed to twist around, he spun, rolled the cane along his back. He danced to the side and did another spin, almost going up on his toes before he spun around again, followed with a complicated set of dance steps while spinning the cane around. Marianne gasped and applauded again. 

Bog laughed coming to a stop and stepped back over to the couch. He eased himself down beside her. His hip hitched a little, then a little more, made him grunt in pain. 

Marianne wrapped her arms around him. 

“Bog, that was amazing.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

Bog laughed as his cheeks colored. “Thanks, that was fun.” 

Marianne reached over and ran her fingers along his long jaw and turned his face toward her to kiss him fully on the mouth. Bog turned into the kiss, his mouth moved tenderly over hers. Bog pulled her closer and Marianne crawled onto his lap. He moaned softly while his hands ran up her back and under the shirt she wore, his fingers glided over her skin feeling the curve of her spine. 

Marianne rose up on her knees, her fingers stroked slowly through his hair, gently leaning his head back as she kissed him. The feel of his soft lips, the wetness of his tongue caressing hers send ripples of warmth through her. Her mouth moved over his, her tongue caressed Bog’s as she leaned into him deepening the kiss. 

Bog’s hands dropped down to her rear and he spread his fingers to cup her ass and then squeezed. Marianne moaned softly as she grabbed fistfuls of his hair and tugged his head back a little more before she dragged her tongue along his jaw, then down his throat. His neck was exposed to her with his head back resting against the couch and Marianne took full advantage. She ran her tongue up his throat, stopped to press her teeth gently against the tender skin of his neck. Bog groaned, prompting Marianne to press against him a little more firmly. She could feel his growing excitement, which only fueled her own. 

She had never been the type of woman who was into marking what was hers, hell she never wrote her name in her books or on the tags of her clothing, but right now she wanted to mark him, mark Bog as hers, to mark him because she could, because she wanted to look at his neck and know she had done that, she had taken him. It was such a primal, base feeling, but she gave into it and began to suck on Bog’s neck, that tender spot just above his collarbone. 

When Bog moaned, Marianne smiled and pressed her teeth gently against his skin. 

Bog’s eyes fluttered before they rolled closed and his hands moved up her back again, then along her sides. Her skin was like silk under his fingertips. He dropped his hands from under the shirt only to move to the front and began to unbutton the shirt slowly while Marianne’s lips teased against his collarbone. 

Bog pulled the shirt off her shoulders once he had the buttons lose and he eagerly lowered his mouth to her breasts. 

Marianne gasped and wrapped her arms around his head, cradling him to her breasts. His lips pressed against her skin, followed by a flick of his tongue. Marianne shuddered. Her fingers stroked through his hair while Bog sucked at her breasts. 

She panted in excitement and pressed down harder against his hardening erection, starting to roll her hips just a little against him. 

Bog pressed one hand under her breast, squeezing up gently while his other hand reached around to press against her back. Marianne arched her back with another moan, rubbing against him when they both heard the sound of Bog’s front door unlocking. 

For a moment, neither one of them moved as the door swung open and Bog’s mother walked in. 

“Bog dear?? I just thought I would come check on you and I brought that dress you wanted to give to Mar…” The older woman’s voice trailed off as she saw her son and a half naked Marianne sitting on Bog’s couch. 

Bog’s blue eyes opened wide and very round. “Mother?!” 

Marianne made a sound half way between a squeak and a squeal. Bog yelped and yanked Marianne’s shirt back over her shoulder, swiftly bring it closed to hide her breasts. At the same time Marianne began to roll off his lap, but Bog grabbed her, his eyes wider still as he quickly shook his head back and forth at Marianne. She stared at him for a few uncomprehending seconds before she realized what he was trying to tell her. 

Marianne’s eyes widened and she stayed exactly where she was while Bog quickly buttoned up her shirt for her. 

“Hi Griselda.” Marianne smiled with a tightness in her tone. “Surprise?” 

* 

Griselda sipped her coffee, still smiling ear to ear, her cheeks rosy. She was very bright tonight in a white sleeveless, boatneck top with large black polka dots and a pair of ankle length black pants adorned with large white polka dots, and white sandals. Bog’s mother had been wearing a pair of extremely large, round, white-rimmed sunglasses when she had come in, carrying a bag that contained the most beautiful ballroom dance outfit Marianne had ever seen. 

Marianne stood between them, still in Bog’s boxers and dress shirt (now fully buttoned up) holding the exquisite outfit. The dress was a rich purple and silver. The shoulders and arms were covered with a shimmering, sheer material while silver filigree ran down from the spine to the hips where the silver spread out across the purple satin and made the skirt shimmer. The sleeves were sheer to the elbow where it flowed into purple bell sleeves. The front of the dress was a mix of the silver and dark purple filigree that twisted and flowed until the form resembled a delicate breast plate. The dropped from the waist and flared out to end around mid-calf length so that when Marianne would move it in, the skirt would ripple like waves on water. 

Sitting on the coffee table was a shoebox in which rested a pair of was sparkling, t-strap purple heels. 

“Oh Bog!! It’s gorgeous!” Marianne’s eyes were alight with happiness and wonder as she held the dress to her chest and did a little spin. 

Bog smiled, a soft blush on his cheeks. “I knew there was going to be a ballroom section coming up in the competition...I wanted you to have something special, something that would enhance your beauty and the beauty of your skills as a dancer.” 

Marianne ran over to him, laying the dress aside before she crawled into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. “It’s the most beautiful dress Bog! Thank you.” 

She kissed him soundly on the lips. 

Bog smiled against her mouth and wrapped his arms around her, for a beat forgetting that his mother was sitting across from them. 

Griselda smiled, glancing into her coffee, her thoughts drifting to a time when she was that in love with Bog’s father. Her heart swelled with happiness. She had been waiting a long time for Bog to find that perfect someone to be his partner in all things. Finally her boy--who had been through so much--had found happiness. 

Griselda sipped her coffee, giving them a few more moments before she cleared her throat to remind them she was still here. 

Marianne tugged playfully on Bog’s bottom lip before she shifted position to sit down beside him. Griselda smiled to see her son so rosy cheeked and with the goofiest smile she had ever seen grace her son’s face. 

Marianne turned and sat across her son’s lap. Bog wrapped his arms around her, one around her waist, the other around her legs. 

Griselda smiled. “So, you going to try it on dear?” 

Marianne glanced at Bog. “Should I?” 

Bog smiled. “I would love to see you in it.” 

He reached over and tenderly brushed a lock of her wild brown hair behind her ear. Marianne smiled at him in a way that again made Griselda’s heart beat with happiness. 

Marianne kissed the tips of his fingers before she hopped up, grabbed the dress and the shoes, and hurried off to the bedroom to change. 

Bog watched her go with a dopey grin before he turned back to his mother who was watching him with a knowing smile. 

“You two look very happy. I didn’t realize she was spending the night. I would have called or knocked,” Griselda said while smiled. She leaned over to set her cup down. “Happy looks good on you Bog honey.” 

Bog blushed. “She does make me happy. I...I don’t remember ever being this happy Mam.” 

Griselda’s bottom lip trembled slightly. “I like her Bog. I mean, I know I’ve said it before, but I really like her.” 

Bog’s smile spread across his face. “Me too Mam...I love her.” 

Griselda hopped up, dashed over to her son, and wrapped her arms around him. Bog hugged his mother in return. 

His mother stepped back with a grin. “Soo…” 

Bog laughed and held up a finger to her. “Now...I know what yer thinking.” His accent came out for a moment which had his mother laughing. 

“Hey, you can’t blame me dear. I want grandkids.” 

Bog chuckled with a finger to his lips. “Shush, don’t scare her off Mam.” 

Griselda walked back over to her seat. “Oh I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

That was when they both heard the door open and turned to see Marianne walk out of the bedroom, wearing the dress. 

Bog stood up slowly, his eyes wide as he stared at her. 

Marianne smiled and blushed doing a little turn. “It’s perfect. I mean, how did you even know my size?” 

Bog blushed. “Well...one of the costumers helped me with your size. I hope that doesn’t seem...stalkery or overstepping. I just wasn’t sure how to…” 

Marianne rushed into his arms. “Thank you Bog, I love it,” she assured him. 

Bog smiled down at her, his arms wrapped around her body when they both heard the sounds of a classical waltz begin to play. They both looked over to see Griselda where she stood next to Bog’s stereo. She grinned and waved at them. “Might as well try the dress out to, see how it glides, you know, just to make sure you like it dear.” 

Bog smirked, but then chuckled. “I do like this piece for dancing a waltz, Frederic Chopin waltz op. 64 no 2.” He stepped back and bowed. “Would you have this dance with me even though I’m in a state of undress?” 

Marianne took his hand. “I would be honored--and you look adorable in boxers.” 

Bog laughed. 

Together they took up the perfect ballroom dancers’ pose, Marianne in his arms, her back bowed, one hand in Bog’s, the other placed on his shoulder. Together they began to spin slowly around the room. 

Bog’s form was perfect Marianne noticed, even with the slight tremor in his step. They glided across the floor, stopped for a beat before Bog spun with her. He relaxed his pose just a bit as he smiled down at her. His blue eyes were radiant. 

Marianne smiled back at Bog as they stepped and spun, stepped and spun. Bog slowed their dance down, the movements precise as they flowed from one step, into a turn, then stopped, shifting position so she could arch back just slightly before they slowly spun again, but this time Bog dropped the stiff pose and pulled her into his arms which he wrapped around her waist and kissed her. 

Marianne’s arms went around Bog’s shoulders. She pulled herself up onto her toes and kissed him in return while the two of them swayed to the music as they kiss. 

Griselda sighed with a smile with a only slightly devious thought...now to plan the wedding! Oh, and to get them engaged before that, I suppose, she thought. 

* 

Bog ordered a nice lunch for the three of them from a sandwich shop nearby. (Marianne changed out of the dress and back into her boxer/dress shirt combo). They discussed the show, but mostly Griselda regaled them with stories of Bog from his youth, his first dance competition, how adorable he looked at ten doing an Argentine Tango with his cousin or the first time he performed on television in Scotland. 

Bog had mostly sat in embarrassed silence, thankful for the fact that his mother had no visual proof with her of how tall, thin and gangly he had been as a youth...though in his mind he was still that person--too tall, too thin, too ugly and just too Scottish a young man trying to break into the world of dance. 

When it was time for Griselda to head out, she yanked Marianne into her embrace and hugged her tight. She whispered against the young woman’s ear. 

“I can never thank you enough for what you’ve done for my boy. I’ve never seen my Bog this happy dear. Never.” 

Marianne blinked back a sudden sting of tears as she hugged Griselda back just as hard. “He makes me happy too. Very happy.” 

Griselda released her and turned to give her son a hug. “All right, you rest sweetie. I’ll be by in the morning to pick you up for your appointment.” 

Bog hugged her. “Thanks Mam. I’ll see you then.” 

She nodded and waved as she went out the door. “You two have fun.” 

She gave an over the top wink as she headed to the elevator just seeing Bog’s embarrassed expression as the doors closed. 

Marianne laughed. “I adore your mother.” 

Bog shook his head as he shut the apartment door. “She is certainly something.” 

Marianne took Bog’s hand. “You are way overdue for your medication and I think a nap is in order. You’re looking tired.” 

Bog shrugged while he let her lead him across the living room and toward the bedroom. “I am a bit.” 

“Well let's get you in bed then,” she said with a smile. 

* 

The bed was still unmade from that morning as Marianne gave Bog his pill then crawled into bed with him. They snuggled up close together with Marianne nestled in the crook of his arm, her head on his chest. Sunlight filtered in through the curtains casting the room in a soft twilight glow that made everything seem cozy. 

Bog let out a sigh of contentment as he relaxed into the bed. He kissed the top of her head smiling at the clean smell of her hair with that hint of perfume that was just 

Marianne’s natural scent, then asked softly. “How would you feel about going to Scotland after the show finishes? We could ask Sunny and Dawn to go with us, and my mother…” 

His voice trailed off a little...but Marianne sat up and turned to look him in the eye. “Scotland?” 

Bog nodded. “I’ve been thinking about going back for a visit for a while and I thought it would be nice to have…” 

Marianne stopped him midsentence with a kiss. He could easily grow accustomed to being interrupted like that. 

Bog grinned, a hand coming up to cradle her head and return her kiss. Marianne pulled away from his lips just long enough to whisper. “Yes, I will go to Scotland with you.” 

Bog grinned goofily. “Thank you.” 

His eyes slowly roamed over her face before he kissed her again. Their kissing quickly turned into something heavier. Marianne eased onto Bog’s lap, straddling his hips while she kissed him, her hands resting on his shoulders. 

Bog’s mouth moved over hers, their tongues played between them as Bog brushed the tips of his fingers down over the smooth silky skin of her throat, stopping where the buttons of the shirt began. He gently tugged on her lower lips with his teeth while his fingers traced the row of buttons that ran down between her breasts and over her stomach. 

Marianne made a whispery moan and began to tug at his t-shirt. She grabbed it from the bottom and began to pull it up. Bog chuckled and pulled away from her mouth long enough to reach over his shoulder and pull the shirt up and over his head, then tossed it aside. 

Marianne giggled. “Mm...I like your chest Bog. I like it a lot.” 

She ran her hands over his chest and along his stomach before coming back to his pecs. She teased the small patch of hair on his chest and leaned in to teasingly kiss him with a lick of her tongue. 

Bog reached between them to slowly unbutton her shirt. 

“I like your chest too,” Bog murmured. 

Marianne giggled while she dragged her fingers down lower, caressed his stomach as Bog slowly unbuttoned each button. He gradually peeled the shirt back, then off her shoulders. 

Marianne stopped her exploration of his stomach to pulled the dress shirt off, tossing it somewhere in the bedroom. 

Bog smiled and dragged his fingertips over her breasts. He was barely touching her, but the skimming of his fingertips over her sensitive flesh raised goosebumps over her skin. Marianne moaned softly. “I want you.” 

Bog inhaled sharply with desire while watching the way her skin reacted to his touch. “I want you too Marianne.” 

He followed his declaration by leaning down to kiss each breast, followed by dragging the flat of his tongue over her nipples, ending with the tip of his tongue teasing one nipple for a heartbeat. 

Marianne groaned loudly. 

Bog pressed his hands against her back, pulled her closer and kissing her breasts, using his tongue to play with her nipples as he would her tongue. Marianne grabbed hold of his elbows and arched her back slightly. 

Bog suddenly moved and dumped her onto her back, his mouth never leaving her breasts as his body settled between her legs and he continued to suck her nipples between his lips, his tongue slowly coating the sensitive areas with saliva. He gently squeezed her breast, then flicked his tongue over the surface creating a burning ache in her groin that made Marianne twitch and wiggle. 

“Bog...uh…” She groaned, inarticulate, let herself feel his touch, revel in it. Her hands slid into his hair as he grabbed her breasts and squeezed them together. He switched back and forth, his tongue played with each nipple until she was sure she couldn't stand it any longer...Bog shifted his weight between her legs, his body pressed down on her just right, made Marianne gasp and her hips moved, trying to find that delicious spot again. 

Bog smiled. He shifted to the side more allowing him to snake a hand down between them, he found the flap in the boxers and slid his hand inside, his fingers finding the hot, wet feel of her, waiting for and wanting his touch. 

When his fingers slid against her, Marianne came instantly. Her body arched as the roll of heated pleasure enveloped her. 

Bog kept circling and sliding his finger while his lips and tongue played with her nipple when Marianne reached down between them to grab his hand. 

“I want you Bog. I want you...inside me.” She pleaded. 

Bog raised his head to look into her brown eyes. “Are...are you sure?” 

Marianne nodded vigorously, her eyes serious, glittering in the dim light. “Very.” 

Bog sat up with a frown. “I...I might have some condoms...but...they’re old.” 

“Where? I’ll go get them,” Marianne said eagerly. 

“Uh...bathroom under the sink I think. I bought some, never used them...silly, but…” Bog started, but Marianne wasn’t listening. He watched as she hopped out of the bed wearing only the boxers and hurried from the room. A few seconds later she came rushing back holding up a condom package with a grin. 

“There was a whole unopened box! They’re over a year old, but I think they’ll be fine.” Marianne giggled placing the condom on the bedside table and shimmied out of her boxers eagerly. 

Bog watched her and his erection throbbed in response to her nudity. She was just so beautiful he thought--just so beautiful. He swallowed nervously and started to work his way out of his boxers, his hip caught a little. A small grunt of pain escaped his lips, but he continued. 

Marianne crawled back into the bed beside him. 

“Here, let me help.” She reached up for his boxers, eased them down his legs and tossed them over the side. 

She smiled moving to lay beside him again and reached over for the condom. 

“Now, where were we?” she said with a smirk as she tore open the package easily. 

Bog swallowed again as Marianne sat up long enough to gently slide the condom down on his erection. Bog closed his eyes, pressing hs teeth into his bottom lip, tensing when her fingers brushed against his sensitive member. Marianne shuddered a little as she rolled the condom down his length. 

“Gruh...Marianne…” He groaned, arching a little at her touch. 

Marianne laid back. “Come here Bog.” 

Bog opened his eyes with a smile, then his eyes rolled with the pleasure of her touch before he positioned himself. He didn’t get on top of her right away, but laid against her side kissing her passionately while his hand caressed her hip, squeezing, then slowly moving up and down her side. 

Marianne wrapped an arm around his wrist, kissing him as she gently, carefully tugged him to her. Bog eased on top of her, his mouth never leaving hers until he was settled between her legs. 

Marianne moaned softly feeling that hint of him at her entrance. 

God she thought, she had never ached this badly before. It wasn’t just her groin that hurt, but her entire being seemed to be aching for him, needing him. 

Bog positioned himself looking down at her with concern. “Are you sure?” 

Marianne looked bewildered for a moment. “What?” 

“Are you sure?” he asked again. 

“Oh Bog yes, yes please,” Marianne groaned. “Please.” 

Bog smiled and whispered, “I love you,” while at the same moment he entered her. 

Marianne cried out softly. “Oh Bog, I love you...I love you!” 

Her body tightened around him and pulled him deeper into her. Marianne wrapped her legs around his waist as her hands caressed his shoulders. 

Bog leaned on his elbows and favored his good hip but he began to move, slowly at first allowing Marianne to adjust to him and for himself to adjust to her. He didn't want to climax too soon, not until he was sure she had enjoyed herself to the fullest extent. Bog swallowed and thrust, slowly, slowly pushing himself deeply into her, and then just as slowly, until his body was shivering with the effort, he pulled back...not all the way out, but just enough for her to whimper with need and for him to quell that need with another slow thrust into Marianne. 

Marianne’s fingers spasmed against his shoulders as her hips arched with her need. She rubbed her feet down the back of his muscled calves as she met his slow thrusts with her own rhythmic movements. She was torn between wanting him to pound into her, to just simply fuck her to fulfill her desire, but also wanting to make love, slow, soft, passionate love making. She felt as if she was a mess of contradicting emotions and needs as she held on to him, leaning up eagerly for his mouth. She hissed in air with pleasure. She had dreamed of having sex with this man when he was only an idea...God she thought, reality was so much better! 

Bog’s fingers dug into the sheet beneath them. He felt a flash of pain from his hip, but it was easy to ignore with part of himself buried inside her. He kissed Marianne hard, his arms trembled with the effort of moving slowly. 

Marianne gave in to her baser need and hissed. “Harder Bog. Harder…” 

Bog groaned, dropped his forehead to hers and let himself go. He thrust hard and fast, their panting breaths mixed together, cut off for intense kisses. Marianne dug her fingers into his shoulders feeling that build, then groaned loudly as she came with a burst of warmth that rippled up her entire body. 

“Bog!” Marianne tightened around him and her entire body embraced him when she climaxed. Bog groaned as his orgasm flooded through him. He thrust a few more times, made Marianne twitch and gasp again as another orgasm, less intense (but just as fantastic she thought) made her jerk and shudder. 

She moaned as she held tightly to him. “Bog, Bog...I love you...Oh, I love you.” 

Bog slowed, easing himself to the side, but not willing to disengage from her, wrapped his arm around her head and leaned heavily on his elbow. He caressed her face with his fingers. 

“I love you Marianne. I love you too.” 

She smiled, expression dreamy, happy. “Mm...now I’m ready for some cuddles.” 

Bog chuckled. “Me too Marianne, me too.” 

* 

Marianne had never felt more depressed than when she had to return to the hotel that night. She tried not to cry because she thought she was being stupid, but damn it, she wanted to stay in bed with Bog all night...and the next day and maybe for the next damn month. Bog had wiped her tears with his thumb and covered her face in tender kisses, but she could see he was just as upset and worried. He didn’t want her around Roland. 

She sighed as she got out of the car, dressed in the clothes she had worn the other day, the ballroom dress over her shoulder, the shoes under her arm. She pulled her phone out and went to her pictures. She had taken a picture of Bog standing in the doorway of his apartment, just in his boxers and grinning at her; the expression of love in his eyes was enough to break her heart. 

She smiled and kissed the picture, dismissing it just as the doors to the elevator opened on her floor and standing there, waiting for the elevator, was Roland.


End file.
